Kotor: A Sith Story
by JoFuRedjetta
Summary: The story of one Sith's rise and fall set against the backdrop of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic I & II.  All chapters currently published together.  Contains some violence and sexual innuendos.


**Chapter One**

_I don't fear the Sith that kill and torture at random. These creatures may be strong willed but they are weak of character and mind. I fear the Sith that gets by without these mechanisms. The one that can kill but can turn an enemy into an ally with greater ease. One who has a sharper wit and intelligence than his skill in the Force. One like this knows when to appear weak, when to appear strong, when to attack and when to fall back. One who excels without the Force can do greater things once he taps into it. That is who I fear._

_From the Holocron of Darth Revan_

_Recorded shortly after seizing control of part of the Republic Fleet_

Feeling the cold press of a blade against his throat caused Fulenjo Redjetta's blue eyes to flutter open in astonishment. He focused immediately on his attacker and quickly a smooth smile stretched across his lips as he regained his composure. "Good morning," he whispered softly, seductively.

"Not so good for you, I think. There's a reason most Sith don't sleep," Raki Xesc said quietly her teeth clenched in a smile of self-satisfaction as she hissed out her words. She was a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties, with naturally curly brown hair and dark, elegant features.

"The verdicts still out," Fulenjo said. "But it could be a bad or a good day for both of us." He glanced down sharply to get her to look down. Lying mostly on top of him she had to lift her torso a bit to see that he had a blaster in his free hand against her side.

She looked up into his eyes again and the blade drew back a bit from his neck. "You're too good to me," she said and leaned forward to kiss him passionately on the lips. She pulled back and pushed off of his chest with her knife still in hand. Fulenjo continued to lie there, keeping the blaster trained on her as she slid out from the sheets. He propped himself up on one arm as he watched her pull on clothing.

A trainee at the Sith Academy on Korriban like himself she was assigned a grey uniform which molded perfectly to her athletic body. She was also assigned her own bunk, but hadn't slept in it more than twice in the last two months. In that two months this was the fifth time she'd tried to kill him while he slept. The first time, the most serious attempt, had been in the middle of their first night together. She hadn't given him warning then, she'd just rolled out of bed and made a grab for her knife. By the time she'd rolled back all she'd managed was to drive the knife into his pillow. It'd been a good pillow; white, soft, and perfectly formed to his head after years of sleeping with it; and Fulenjo still mourned its loss.

She'd leapt at him and tried to stab him again. The guards, which had been bribed to not respond to the intimate noises, resisted intruding at first but could not help but be drawn to the fight, along with Master Uthar, who'd arrived just in time to see two naked students struggling to kill each other. They'd been pulled apart. Fulenjo had been scolded for letting his guard down. Raki had been complimented on her inventive attempt to kill a fellow student, but Uthar was clearly disappointed that she hadn't succeeded.

The night after that had been one of the few times she'd slept in her own bunk since that incident. Drawn together because of their mutual power in the Force, they'd reconciled the next night. Then Fulenjo had attempted to suffocate her with the Force on the next night. She'd responded by kneeing him between the legs… twice. They'd slept apart and then were back together two days later. It became more of a silly game that couples play, rather serious murder attempts. Although, Fulenjo knew the guards had a betting pool on who would kill whom and how long it would take.

The small knife that she'd shown to be her weapon of choice disappeared into a wrist sheath beneath her tunic and then she turned to look down on him as she struggled to push her foot into one of her boots against the edge of the bed. "You better get a move on," she said. "I let you sleep later today."

Fulenjo clambered out of bed with the blaster still in hand. Two weeks ago she'd pulled a similar stunt of waking him, pretending about killing him, and then when he'd put his lightsaber away she'd actually tried to shoot him. He set the blaster down right next to him on the bed while he dressed on the opposite side of the room from her.

It was a rather weird relationship, as any relationship among the Sith would undoubtedly be. While the Sith were encouraged to fuel their passions, whatever those passions might be, it was also widely known that the fastest and surest way to a student's final test was by killing your competition. So they cared for each other enough to spend their nights together and offer a bit of advice or help here and there. But they didn't love each other. Their beliefs could never allow them to extend that kind of trust.

"I heard we're getting a new batch of students in today," Raki said as she finished dressing by buckling her belt and snatching her lightsaber from where she kept it on top of his footlocker. "Must mean we're going to face our final tests soon."

"Do you think either of us has gained enough prestige?" Fulenjo asked, running a hand through his unruly blonde hair to make some sense of it.

"I brought back the Sith Sword of Komok-Da," Raki said with pride. "Granted I killed the student who'd actually recovered. I thought you'd brought back that holocron of Simus. That should certainly have gained you a lot of prestige with Master Uthar and Yuthura."

"If I had given it to them, sure," Fulenjo said as he pulled his pants up and tucked his shirt in.

Raki smiled at this, "You kept it for yourself."

"Wouldn't you?"

She thought about it for a moment as she helped him find his boots. "I guess I would have. Have you had time to study it?"

"No more than a few minutes," Fulenjo stated.

"What are you going to do to gain prestige then?" Raki asked.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I've already endeared myself to Yuthura. But Master Uthar is another matter."

"Whatever you did for Yuthura, just do for Master Uthar as well," Raki said.

"I can't _quite_ do that for Master Uthar too," Redjetta said with a sly smile.

"Oh?" Raki questioned at first. Then she got it, "Oh!" She smiled at him. "You are _fairly_ good at that. I can see why Yuthura would be _moderately _happy with you."

Fulenjo smiled, taking her ribbing with good humor. "I think Master Uthar found out and between that and our incidents that he's been involved in, I'm pretty sure I've got a long way to go before he'll let me take the test."

"What are you going to do?" Raki asked.

"After Yuthura's lecture this morning, I'm going to go into Dreshdae and look into a few things."

"Not back out to the Valley of the Dark Lords?"

"The secrets in the Valley have been well guarded for millennia. What's left are still very well guarded. The secrets in Dreshdae may be more relevant and easier to track down," Redjetta replied as he looked for his lightsaber. "Why? You want to tag along?"

Raki shook her head. "I finally convinced Adrenas to alter the training room records. I'm going to practice my dueling."

Struggling to find his lightsaber he looked up to find Raki holding it. She turned it over in her hand. Smaller than a regular two-handed lightsaber. His blade was considered a lightfoil, meant exclusively for the second form of combat, Makashi. He'd designed and built it two years before coming to Korriban when he had still been living in the Tapani Sector.

"This thing is so light," Raki remarked when she caught him looking at her. "It'd be easy to miss. She tossed it to him with a mischievous smile. She jerked her head towards the Academy's central chamber. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Hanging back around the central chamber's edges the senior students of the academy watched as Yuthura Ban introduced four new students to the Academy's overseer Uthar Wyn. Yuthura was a purple-hued Twi'lek with a number of pink Sith tattoos on her forehead. The most Striking thing about the twenty-seven-year-old Twi'lek were her violet eyes that seemed to cut right through you. Easily superior to any recruit at the Academy, and also many of it's instructors, she was officially still Uthar's apprentice.

Her twin head-tails were draped over her shoulders, not betraying any of her emotions as she introduced Master Uthar to the four new trainees. Shaardan struck Fulenjo Redjetta as a weak-willed bully; strong in the Force but not so strong upstairs. The only woman, Lashowe was strikingly beautiful, with blonde hair and a regal bearing. She was obviously used to leading others but Fulenjo suspected her skills with the Force were probably minimal, but something in her cold eyes made him believe she was extremely intelligent. He wouldn't mind getting to know her better. The one named Mekel seemed pretty cruel.

The last one though was perhaps the most intriguing. A little older than the rest of the students at the Academy, the man was flanked by what he claimed were two slaves and gave a name that Fulenjo assumed was an anagram or some other false identity. An infiltrator perhaps? Fulenjo would have to look into it. Exposing an infiltrator was undoubtedly worth some good prestige. He'd ask around about it in Dreshdae, see if he couldn't find out where the man had come from.

The little welcoming ceremony broke up but not before he saw Dustil, one of his classmates have a look of shock wash over his face and duck out. Fulenjo wondered about that but couldn't spare it too much thought before Yuthura called the senior students together. If she noticed Dustil's absence she didn't say anything.

"Today I want to talk to you all about some dangerous species that are not Force users, but have advantages you will still need to compensate for," Yuthura began.

"We're Sith," Hijata said with derision, "We can overcome anything."

"Don't be an arrogant fool," Yuthura reprimanded harshly. "How do you expect to overcome anything if you can't first overcome your own idiocy?" She turned to speak to them all again, "Knowledge is an advantage, a strength you must arm yourself with if you are ever to amount to anything as a Sith. If you don't you will only serve as saber fodder.

"Doles anyone know of any species that might have an advantage besides strength or speed, because these you have already been trained to compensate for?" she asked.

"That one that was just discovered not to long ago," Galon Lor said in his nasally voice, "The Falleen. They are supposed to be able to produce intoxicating pheromones in order to influence others." Someone snorted, but Fulenjo just rolled his eyes. Leave it to Galon Lor to try to be the teacher's pet. The little geek wasn't strong in the Force, but he certainly compensated… overcompensated with a lot of that knowledge that Yuthura had just talked about.

"Good, Galon," Yuthura congragulated and Galon beamed. "The Falleen pheromones can act almost the exact same way as mind-influence works among Force-users. It can also be countered in almost the exact same way. Clearing your mind can clear the effects of the pheromones. To prevent their effects you can also create a small bubble in the Force that pushes the pheromones back. Like shields on a starship." Anyone else?" She looked around expectantly.

Nobody said anything for a few moments. "What about the Zeltros?" offered Dak Vesser. Dak was anomaly to Fulenjo. The man was moderately strong in the Force, even had training as a Jedi before joining the Sith. He;d been around longer then any of the other students but clearly had no real drive to excel. He was wishy-washy but skilled and smart enough that most others didn't notice it. Fulenjo but with the right push Dakw ould drop out of the Sith Academy just like he'd dropped out of the Jedi Academy. That was the problem with the children of the newly wealthy, they were spoiled and didn't know the value of hard work. The Redjetta Dynasty had imparted on Fulenjo what was necessary to not only succeed but to surpass.

Yuthura nodded. "The Zeltros, like the Falleen also exude pheromones. Unlike the Falleen, Zeltros are rather single-minded and prefer partying and carousing…"

"Sounds like my kind of species," Fulenjo quipped, getting a chuckle from his fellow students. Even Yuthura cracked a smile. His reputation for partying and skirt-chasing was well known.

"As I was saying," Yuthura continued, "Unlike the Falleen, Zeltros are rather single-minded and prefer partying and carousing to achievement and pursuits of power. But don't take that as an invitation to lower your guard. You can easily become slothful or deluded around a Zeltros. You may find yourself not wanting to leave and your true self, the one devoted to the Sith will slip away. In a way it is more sinister than the way the Falleen use their pheromones. These effects can be blocked the same way. Can anyone think of a species that has a different type of advantage?"

"The Gank have a hive-mind," Raki spoke up, "It helps them organize their killings."

"Very true," Yuthura said. "I've seen Gank Killing Groups on Sleheyron. They are very effective. Any hive-mind, or telepathic being can be cut off through the use of the Force. To the Gank it means they are sloppier. Cutting a Hortek off from his telepathy, or overpowering it can result in leaving them stunned for a moment before they try to use their other senses. Even then they are sluggish and often will retreat from battle even if they still have the upper hand. Anyone else?"

And so it went for nearly two hours with Yuthura talking at great length about various species with advantages that most Sith did not naturally possess and must therefore utilize the Force to overcome.

Once it broke up Fulenjo caught Raki's eye from across the room and gave her a playful wink before leaving the rest of the students behind. From what he knew of them Dak Vesser and Galon Lor would undoubtedly be heading to the Valley of the Dark Lords. The two might actually be powerful enough to make it into one of the tombs and find something valuable if they would actually team up. There was little chance of that happening though. Raki he already knew was heading to the training rooms. Hijata would probably head to some of the lessons being offered by other teachers at the academy. He was arrogant, but he liked to schmooze with the teachers and some of the newer students in order to get a leg up on them. Few, if any of them would head to Dreshdae. None of them really believed they could gain any prestige by hanging out in the city and locals and hopefuls that made up the scene; which left it completely open for Fulenjo Redjetta to do as he pleased.

The short walk from the Academy to the outskirts of Dreshdae left him covered in dust from the howling wind. He brushed off as he entered into the enclosed enclave that housed everyone's favorite bar _The Drunk Side_, one of Czerka's offices, and a few landing platforms. Closed-in enclaves were the best way to keep the dust out and while this wasn't the largest enclave it did have the benefit of being the closest to the Academy; meaning _The Drunk Side_ was frequented the most by the Sith and the landing platforms here were those most often used by Academy hopefuls.

Fulenjo spotted Lurze Kesh, a Rodian black market broker hanging out in front of the bar. With a nod of greeting to Lurze Fulenjo passed him and entered the bar. It was still early but you never knew who you might find there. When he'd joined the Sith he'd found Yuthura Ban in here just after dawn. A few drinks later and some of his natural charm and she'd given him a medallion.

Pulling up to the bar Fulenjo ordered a Coruscant Spritzer. Non-alcoholic, the drink still smelled like alcohol which was enough to convince most beings that he was getting inebriated. "How are things Mika?" Redjetta asked. Mika Dorn was the Rodian owner/bartender. Fulenjo also knew the Mika sold some premium weapons and armor under the table. Lurze had told him because the two used to be business partners.

"So-so," Mika replied in Rodian. When he'd first come to Korriban Redjetta had only a limited knowledge of languages. Rodian not among them. He'd quickly found out that four Rodians dominated smuggling, information, and the black market in Dreshdae so he'd quickly set about learning the language. "The cantina is doing well but…" he trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Other business not so good?" Fulenjo guessed after taking a sip of his drink, the fiz in the drink made his lips tingle.

Mika nodded. "Lurze keeps hanging out front, attracting those that would otherwise come in here. I contacted Czerka Security and the Sith Guard, technically speaking since he's not inside they can't legally do anything. I chased him off once, now he's got an emergency call button so he can call in two security droids he bought," Mika shrugged again, resigned to the fact that he couldn't do anything about his former partner.

"That's too bad," Redjetta replied as he eyed entrance, sure enough Lurze had stopped some freighter pilot from entering and the two were quite obviously brokering a deal.

"I'd be grateful to anyone who got rid of him," Mika added pointedly.

Fulenjo considered Mika for a moment. "I'll keep that in mind. But technically speaking I shouldn't be getting involved in affairs that don't have anything to do with my training."

"Five hundred, should you decide otherwise," Mika offered.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said as he pulled away from the bar. He spotted Toll Apkar playing pazaak with a Twi'lek girl. Twi'leks were a beautiful species and Fulenjo found himself drawn to them at all occasions. This one was a Rutian, meaning she had a pleasant turquoise-blue skin tone. She was dressed in spacer garb which made Fulenjo suspect she was off of one of the freighters, rather than an Academy hopeful.

Toll and the blue-skinned Twi'lek were sitting at the table that Toll had claimed as his own. In addition to a card shark, Toll was a good source of information, he knew just about everyone in Dreshdae and was privy to a lot of their dealings. He knew how to keep his mouth shut though, which meant he was alive after years in the business when other information brokers ended up dead at the hands of their clients.

Fulenjo plopped down in a chair perpendicular to both of them. "How's it going Toll?" Redjetta asked, hoping to put the girl at ease. Now that he could see her face he realized she was a tad young, but that didn't mean they couldn't flirt a little still.

Toll just shrugged as he studied his cards and Fulenjo turned to the Twi'lek. "My name is Fulenjo, most people call me Jo. What's your name?"

She eyed him for a moment, her gaze lingering a little too long on his uniform and he knew instantly about her reservations. "Mission," she said simply.

"Be careful Mission, Toll's the resident card shark of Dreshdae. He'll take everything you own over a couple of hands," Fulenjo warned.

"Thanks," she said with a hint of disdain, "But I think I'm doing all right."

"More than all right," Toll buzzed grumpily in his native tongue. "She's won three out of three hands so far."

Fulenjo flashed one of his winning smiles. "You're either losing your touch Toll… or you are very good Mission. You have my apologies for offering unneeded advice and doubting your skills. Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?"

She looked up at him a little astonished. Clearly she didn't think he was here to hit on her. "I… I… shouldn't," she finally said.

Fulenjo sipped at his own drink. "They have plenty here I think you'd like…"

Toll threw down his cards in disgust as he went bust. Mission blushed as she quickly tucked away the credits on the table. "I really can't," she said.

"Ok then," Fulenjo relented. "Where are you from then? If you've got skills good enough to beat Toll you must have played on the Circuit…"

"Taris," she said simply, a tinge of pain in her voice.

"Taris?" Fulenjo repeated, knowing now he had misstepped. "I'm sorry about what happened there."

"You should be," she nearly spat the words at him, "Your boss destroyed the place."

"Like I said, I'm sorry," he poured sincerity into his words through the Force. Sincerity he didn't really feel, but knew she needed from him.

She sniffed once as Toll dealt cut the deck but she didn't say anything more.

"I can say that I'm very thankful that you were not on Taris when it was destroyed," he said. Mission blushed again but didn't say anything. So he continued, choosing a different approach. "Did you lose many friends?"

"A few," she replied. "Some of us were lucky to make it offworld before it started."

"That's good," Fulenjo said. "Your family?"

She shook her head. "My brother is the only family I've known and he left Taris a couple of years ago."

"Where's he at?"

"Tatooine, still running the same old scams," she said with a quiet sigh. Her mind clearly wasn't on the game anymore as Toll finally won a hand.

Fulenjo took another sip, thinking how best to proceed. "So how'd you get offworld?"

"Some friends took me with them right before the blockade," she said, Fulenjo sensed it wasn;t quite the truth but he didn't need to push the matter.

Fulenjo could tell it was a half truth but didn't press the matter. "Where are you headed?"

"All over," was her reply, "Nowhere in particular."

He could tell he was starting to break down the ice because she began to use more and more words when answering his questions. "I've been there," he joked, "Good food but terrible service."

She cracked a smile.

"Now how about that drink?" he asked again.

"I shouldn't…"

"Just one…" he offered again.

"I… uh…"

A heavy hand landed on Fulenjo's shoulder and he nearly jumped. He'd been so focused on the girl he hadn't noticed the guy walk up behind him. "The girl said no," the man's voice was deep and rough. Fulenjo looked up and behind him to see what he'd been expecting, a large brute of a man. Mercenary by the look of him. Fulenjo probed a bit with the Force and pegged him as a Mandalorian.

He stood, shrugging off the hand at the same time. "No worries," he said, sending a bit of reassurance to the Mandalorian. He could feel his attempts rebuffed and knew instantly why the Sith had respected their kind. Mandalorains were said to be one of the few people that could kill a Jedi without the benefit of the Force. He smiled, "Mandalorian, huh?"

"What about it?" the man asked gruffly.

"I've got a lot of respect for your kind. You're last war with the Republic was amazing. Some of Cassus Fett's tactics are required studying at the Academy. I know we would have had a much harder time conquering the Republic if you hadn't softened them up so much for us first." When all else failed simply flattery tended to work best.

The Mandalorian was tough _and_ smart; he didn't bite. Instead he turned to the girl. "Come on, kid. We're done here."

The girl called Mission played one last card and scooped up Toll's credits. "All right," she said. Fulenjo caught her eye one last time as she got up and gave her a warm smile. She blushed again but the Mandalorian quickly guided her out of the cantina with one hand on her shoulder.

"Where are they from?" Fulenjo asked Toll.

Toll shook his head. "Came in on a freighter called the _Ebon Hawk_. The _Hawk_ was Davik Kang's ship. Not sure where Davik is. Probably dead on Taris."

Fulenjo considered this while he swallowed the rest of his drink and stared after them. "What do you know about Lurze business," he asked, following a different thread.

"He's been growing a lot lately. More than that I won't say…"

"Price?" Fulenjo questioned.

Toll shrugged. "It's not so much a matter of price, but a matter of life. I tell you I could end up dead."

Fulenjo pulled out four hundred credits from his pocket and put them down on the table, it easily covered the losses Toll had just suffered at the hands of the girl and then some. Something about the Rodian's last statement made him intrigued.  
Toll's eyes widened a bit and he quickly motioned for Fulenjo to come closer. Fulenjo sat back down and leaned in. The Rodian stank but he'd smelled worse. "Lurze is providing spice to someone at the Academy."

"A student?" Fulenjo asked. It was good information to have, he could use it discredit a classmate. If it was true.

Toll shook his head slowly. "Higher up, much higher up."

"A name?" Fulenjo prompted.

"No," Toll said, "I've already stretched my neck out enough. You'll have to find another way to find out who."

Fulenjo nodded his understanding and made to leave. "Thanks Toll. I'll see you around."

Lurking around the Dreshdae enclave was not hard for Fulenjo Redjetta. Social by nature he knew a number of the permanent residents. B'ree, the fourth Rodian in charge of the black market here was more legitimate and had earned the ire of the Czerka office for cutting into their sales. The Rodian had earned a number of friends though, one of which was a group of Mandalorian raiders that kept him supplied. B'ree had only had to mention them once to the Czerka toughs before being left to his own devices.

Fulenjo had checked in on his friends with Czerka and then those at the docking facilities and found out the _Ebon Hawk_ was the same ship that had brought the Academy student with the two slaves here. In addition to the Mandalorian and the Twi'lek there had also been glimpses of a few others that had not disembarked. It was strange for space travelers to remain cooped up rather than getting out and stretching their legs once on a planet and Fulenjo filed away the information in his brain for later.

Finally he'd met one of the Sith hopefuls, a young woman from Tapani Sector like himself. They'd spent the rest of the afternoon at _The Drunk Side_ talking about places they'd both been to and about their home sector. Sticking to his Coruscant Sptritzers Fulenjo allowed himself to appear like he was getting intoxicated but in reality he was keeping tabs on Lurze Kesh. He would need to confront the merchant someplace besides the middle of the enclave so was waiting to see where he went.

When he saw Lurze make his move Fulenjo quickly said goodbye to his companion, getting her comm code and leaving one of his own before following the Rodian. From a distance he followed the Rodian down the long ramp outside the enclave to the path that would eventually lead to the Academy. Instead of proceeding to the enclave Lurze hooked around to skulk in the evening shadows cast by the ramp. Stumbling along, still giving the appearance of being drunk, Lurze knew him well enough that he would undoubtedly believe that after an afternoon of drinking he was headed back to the Academy.

Fulenjo stumbled to the ground at the end of the ramp and when he was back on his feet he was conveniently facing the wrong direction so he could actually stumble closer to the Rodian. He felt Lurze's apprehension and derision through the Force. He feigned a stumble that would have crashed him into Lurze. The Rodian put up his hands to keep Fulenjo from knocking them both over. Instead Fulenjo caught himself and brought his lightsaber up to press the emitter against Lurze's chest; off, but the intent was clear.

"Hands all the way up, Lurze" Fulenjo said. "Don't even think about hitting your panic button."

"What do you want?" Lurze asked.

"You're meeting one of the Sith here to give him spice," Fulenjo stated. "Give it to me."

"No," Lurze said flatly.

"I _need_ it," Fulenjo said, letting his voice take on a slight crazed edge. "It's been so long, Lurze. _Please!_"

Lurze considered his options. "I need payment," he relented at last. "Two thousand. For a standard kilo."

Fulenjo considered this, that was about all he had left on him but he could get more easily enough. He wasn't even sure what type of spice it was. But Lurze assumed he knew."

"That's outrageous," Fulenjo said.

"You're asking me to snub one of my existing customers," Lurze shot back. "One more powerful than you. He's already mad that it's been delayed."

"Delay it some more," Fulenjo said.

"Two thousand. He'll be here soon enough and could take care of you for me," Lurze stated.

"Fine," Fulenjo growled, lowering his lightsaber and digging in his pocket for credits. Lurze produced a pouch and handed it over once he had the credits.

"If you need more, just ask the normal way," Lurze said. "I've got replacement shipments coming in next week."

Fulenjo nodded, hiding the pouch inside his tunic. He took a step back to allow the Rodian to leave. Fulenjo found a better hiding spot behind some empty crates to watch for whoever came. He damped down on his presence in the Force. He didn't want his prey to be scared away.

Despite Lurze's words it was nearly twenty minutes before anyone rambled down the path. Clad in a dark hooded-cape common among the Sith it would not arouse suspicion. Fearing detection Fulenjo didn't dare reach out with the Force to see who it was. Instead he remained hidden. The figure appeared as if he was going to stroll right up the ramp into the Dreshdae enclave but at the last moment he ducked around the side.

"Lurze!" the man hissed. Fulenjo remained hiding, as the man poked deeper into the shadows. "Lurze!" the man called again louder and Fulenjo couldn't believe his ears or his fortune.

He stepped from behind the crates and the figure spun on him. "It's me Master Uthar," he said holding his hands up in front of him in a calming motion. He'd also learned to block Force lightning and if Uthar decided to attack him he'd need his hands there.

The stooped figure stood suddenly straighter. "Fulenjo Redjetta! What are you doing here?"

Fulenjo smiled maliciously. "I've been snooping around Dreshdae looking for a way to earn enough prestige to face my final test. I followed Lurze down here and he gave you up." It was only half a lie. No one had mentioned Master Uthar, but the rest was true.

Uthar pulled his hood back far enough that Fulenjo could actually see his face, but left it on so that anyone else wouldn't see who it was. Uthar was a pale man, the Dark Side was clearly devouring him but he radiated power. "So you've found out my little secret. What now? You could expose me, but this is hardly a crippling secret. We all have our vices, may I remind you that yours are well known."

"But you want it kept secret," Fulenjo said, taking advantage of the situation, "And like you said this might not be enough to bring you down. Instead, I want you to set me up with a final test. I've been around long enough and I've mastered the skills."

"You have the spice?" Uthar asked.

"Yes."

"Give it to me and I'll set you up with your final test." Fulenjo handed it over. "Not a word about this," Uthar commanded.

"It serves me best too by being secret," Fulenjo stated.

Uthar nodded and then strode away, into Dreshdae to keep up the appearance of legitimate business. Fulenjo smiled to himself and was walking back to the Academy when he remembered the girl from his home sector. He pulled out his current com link and made a call. She agreed to meet him in the next enclave up at the _Knight Time Hotel_. A night away from Raki and her murderous amusement would do him good. He wouldn't really be missed until morning. He was having a good day so far and he wanted to continue his good times.

**Chapter Two**

_ My apprentice? He is skilled and strong. He is intelligent enough to know his place but he is ambitious. Do I fear him? Yes, for in him I see the destruction of the Sith Order we have created. He will strike at me, as all Sith must. If he strikes at the right time he will rule the galaxy with only doing half the work. If he strikes too soon he may kill me but he will also kill the Sith's chance at controlling the Galaxy. I know that he has taken on an apprentice whom he hopes to use when the time is right. I have been seeking a new apprentice but I find none that are worthy. When I was a Jedi I thought Malak worthy. Now I believe differently. He is my apprentice in name only. Hopefully I can find one I can be proud of to replace me._

_From the Holocron of Darth Revan_

_Recorded after Darth Malak's bombing of Telos IV_

When Fulenjo snuck into the Academy early the next morning to attend the morning lecture by Yuthura he was moderately surprised to see Kel Algwin missing. Kel was a moderate student and Fulenjo hadn't believed he'd had what it took to be a Sith, but was surprised to see that the man had worked up the nerve to leave.

As he settled down he noticed Dustil eyeing everyone strangely. Something had happened to him yesterday, that much Fulenjo was certain. What it was he couldn't begin to guess at. Raki settled in next to him on the hard floor. "You look tired love, late night?" she gave him a playful pinch on the bum. She didn't mean the word love. The only thing she loved was power.

"More like an early morning," he said slyly. She smiled. She wasn't jealous of his activities just like he wasn't jealous of hers. That was the way their relationship, if it could even be called a relationship, worked.

Uthar Wyn was present this morning along with Yuthura. "Before Yuthura begins this morning I have an announcement to make. Two students have proven themselves worthy to take the final test. Fulenjo frowned; he hadn't known anyone else was close to that point. "Since the Tomb of Naga Sadow can only be set up for one to take the test at a time. One of you will take that test while another test will be set up for the other.

"Raki Xesc please stand," Uthar said. Fulenjo was surprised when Uthar called out her name. "Your familiarity with the Valley of the Dark Lords should serve you well in Naga Sadow's Tomb. Your strength in the Dark Side will lead you through."

As much as Fulenjo was surprised Raki looked even more surprised when Uthar called for him to stand. "Yours has been a non-traditional rise through the ranks," Uthar said, "But effective. You've utilized more modern means to achieve your goals and your test will reflect this. A smuggler in Dreshdae has become a threat to this Academy. Your task will be to dispatch him after you secure information about his contacts. Be careful, he will be well armed."

Fulenjo felt his gut sink. Lurze and Uthar had planned an ambush for him. He'd overplayed his hand. He didn't let it show on his face when Uthar turned an evil smile upon him. He just accepted it. He knew what he was capable of and he deliberately underplayed his Force skills for just that reason.

Yuthura's class was dismissed after the announcement and Fulenjo turned to Raki. "I had no idea you were so close to the final test," he said.

Raki smiled. "I took a page out of your book." There could be no more than one meaning and Fulenjo just accepted it. That was why he found himself drawn to Raki. She was ruthless and adaptive. "What about you, how'd you get a final test?"

"New tactic," Fulenjo said.

"What'd you do?" she pressed.

"Can't say," Fulenjo stated.

"Something you found in Dreshdae?"

"Yep."

"But you aren't going to tell me."

"Nope."

Raki shrugged. "Ok. Tonight are our tests. I'm going to spend the time meditating and resting. Care to join me."

A smile spread across his lips. "I think if we spent time together we wouldn't be meditating or resting and I could use a lot of both."

Raki shrugged off the turn down. "Suit yourself. I'll see you tomorrow after our tests then."

"I look forward to it." Fulenjo said. Raki gave him a peck on the cheek before scampering off. He hung around until after the others had left to talk to Master Uthar about his test.

"You want me to kill Lurze," it wasn't a question.

"He's become unreliable lately," Uthar stated.

"You've warned him," Fulenjo said, again a statement not a question.

"It wouldn't be much of a test if you could just walk up behind him and stick a knife in his back," Uthar replied. "You've been trained by the Mecrosa Order, assassinating a simple smuggler shouldn't be very difficult."

"You hope he kills me," again a statement.

Uthar smiled. "You've got a lot of ambition, Redjetta. If you survive you deserve to and I will have more cause to fear you. If you die, you are nothing more than an upstart punk with delusions of grandeur."

"Anything else I should know?"

Uthar shook his head slightly.

"Not that you're willing to tell me anyway," Fulenjo concluded.

"You're observant and smart. I don't know if it will be enough to see you through this test, but they are good qualities to have."

"I have to kill him tonight?"

"That's when the test has been set for," Uthar pointed out.

"The ambush you mean."

Uthar smiled grimly but didn't say anything.

"I'll pass your test. If it's a fair evaluation I'll keep your secret. If its not you better watch your back."

Uthar laughed laconically. "We're Sith. If I didn't watch my back already I would have died long ago."

Fulenjo turned and stomped off. He was mad but he knew why Uthar had done what he'd done and he couldn't really fault the man. Tonight at least one threat to Uthar would be eliminated.

Fulenjo Redjetta was skulking in the shadows of the docking bay where Lurze's personal starship the _Freerunner_. Built for smuggling the ship looked benign enough but Fulenjo had heard it could easily outrun most patrol vessels and had some hidden armament tucked away. He didn't like direct confrontation, it wasn't his modus operandi. A fight to him always marked a failure to explore all possibilities.

It was getting late, marked by the sun setting a few hours earlier but Lurze still hadn't returned. Fulenjo guessed the Rodian was hesitant for the confrontation. Undoubtedly he was strapping on some of his own armor, perhaps even trying to get some of the premium armor from his old business partner Mika. The thought brought a smirk to Fulenjo's features. He'd stopped by Mika's cantina on the way to set up his own ambush and convinced the bartender to up his offer to fifteen hundred credits. After all, there was no point killing someone when you could kill them _and_ make a profit.

Sitting still for so long was beginning to give Fulenjo cramps but he didn't dare move. The sensors in the docking bay could only be overridden from outside and they had undoubtedly reset from when he'd overridden them earlier. He'd completed a few assassinations in his home sector before and he knew how it worked. One time he'd spent a day in a cramped plasteel crate before his quarry had come within range of the poison blowdart. He'd spent another three days in there before the crime scene had quieted and he'd been able to sneak away. This wait was nothing.

Well, almost nothing. After all, his previous prey hadn't known their time was coming. Lurze was prepared and it wouldn't be a quiet assassination involving a lot of sneaking and subterfuge. Instead, it was going to be a fight.

Breathing in deeply and exhaled slowly, Fulenjo forced oxygen to his muscles. Finally the door to the hangar bay slid open. First one of Lurze's Mark IV Assault Droids scuttled in. Like a four legged spider with a gun mounted on top they were formidable on the battle field but Fulenjo had trained against them. It took them time to turn and reorient themselves to attack when someone was close in. He could use that against them.

Lurze followed the droid in a moment later, looking nervous. Fulenjo had guessed correctly, instead of his normal jumpsuit Lurze had donned a heavy combat suit. The armor would offer him some protection against blaster bolts, grenades, and a graze from a lightsaber. But it wouldn't be able to stand up against a direct hit from a lightsaber.

Fulenjo waited for a moment until the second droid had joined Lurze. He stretched out with the Force and was almost pleased to note three other presence's lurking in the hallway. Master Uthar had prepared the ambush well. The three presences in the hallway spread out around the docking bay, almost certainly to be able to drop in and get the upper hand.

A small ion grenade found its way into Fulenjo's hand. The Mark IV would be moderately guarded against an ion blast but it would still give him a moment to launch his assault. He thumbed the activator switch and sent it silently towards his quarry.

The grenade went off right beneath the first droid. The blast was strong enough to cripple that one for a moment but the other droid was already scampering around from behind a stunned Lurze to protect its master. Fulenjo had vaulted the crates he was hiding behind, using the Force to amplify his adrenaline and boost the blood flow to his stiff muscles.

His lightfoil was out and the purple shaft extending before the second droid could get clear. Lurze was making a run for his ship. Fulenjo leaped into a roll that landed him next to the disabled droid. Coming up he drug the blade through the stunned droid, leaving it in two useless pieces.

The second droid was firing and Fulenjo batted the bolts back at the droid with his one handed lightsaber grip. The droid had a small shield generator up and the deflected bolts did no damage. Sidestepping quickly to get out of the droids direct line of fire and into the droids vulnerable side spots Fulenjo then gathered the Dark Side to him through his anger at Uthar's quest and channeled it into a destructive stream of energy that battered through the droid's shield and overloaded its power core. It shut down to avoid a complete overload that would result in an explosion. Fulenjo knew he only had three seconds before the droid would restart. Luckily he didn't need that much time and a well practiced flourish left the droid in four pieces while a small explosion signaled that Lurze had made it to the landing ramp and been unfortunate enough to trigger the frag mine Fulenjo had placed discreetly on it.

Lurze was thrown to the ground but his ship's droid brain obviously responded to the trouble and a pair of anti-personnel turrets attempted to lower. Fulenjo had been busy when he'd first entered the docking bay. Before hiding he'd quickly rigged the ship with a number of explosives. The two turrets were blown off as they attempted to deploy.

Fulenjo was about to approach Lurze when he remember the three presences he'd felt early. He kept his blade up and ready as he surveyed the hangar. A presence at the door caught his attention, along with the glow of a lightsaber cutting through the opposite wall. Above him he heard a thump as the third presence vaulted onto the roof of the freighter.

Fulenjo checked Lurze's position and sent him skidding further away from his ship to smack his head into the wall. He still needed to question the Rodian at the end of this. He hit a button on a gauntlet he wore on his wrist and the ship exploded behind him, the presence that had vaulted onto the roof evaporated from the Force as fire tore through him.

Buying time Fulenjo sent some of the wreckage toward the hole that was opening in the far wall as Hijata, one of his classmates charged him from the main door. Hijata's arrogance was even present in his approach. He believed himself superior and his open attack was evidence of this. He pounced at Fulenjo from three meters back bringing his blade up and down hard in a crushing blow that Fulenjo's one handed grip would be unable to hold against. Instead Fulenjo sidestepped at the last moment and Hijata's red blade came crashing down into the floor.

Surprised Hijata was still fast enough to continue into a roll and carry himself outside of Fulenjo's blade before Fulenjo could slice him open from behind. Hijata whirled around once he was on his feet and charged again. Instead of countering Hijata's brute force attacks Fulenjo back stepped the first, deflected the second and then stepped in beneath Hijata's wide swings and gutted him. Pulling his blade all the way up through Hijata's chest he finally pulled it out the side of Hijata's neck and then turned to face his last opponent.

The ease with which he dispatched his last foe was ridiculous. Seizing a chunk of the still-burning wreckage he levitated it above the hole the woman cut in the wall. A Telekinetic blast blew the wreckage he'd piled against the wall across the hangar in a dozen directions. She stepped through the hole with an evil smile.

Matching her smiled Fulenjo gestured with his blade upward. Uncertainty passed over her features and she glanced upward. As she did so he reversed the direction in which he was pushing the wreckage. Over a ton of wreckage came crashing down on her with more force than simple gravity could provide.

A self-satisfied smirk came over his features as he felt the last of the Sith presence's wink out. So much for a fair test, but he had known it wouldn't be fair going in. Still he'd dispatched all his threats in less than two minutes. Now just to get Lurze to talk.

Fulenjo looked to where he'd sent Lurze crashing head-first into the wall. The Rodian was gone. His smirk turned into a scowl. On a human that crash would have left them unconscious. The Rodian obviously had a thicker skull or a faster recovery time. But it had only been a handful of moments Lurze couldn't have gotten far.

Using his anger at losing the Rodian to sharpen his focus of the Force, Fulenjo reached out with his senses. He didn't know Lurze well enough to pinpoint his identity among the hundred nearby but he didn't have to. He was looking for the fear that the Rodian would be throwing off and he found it almost immediately. Fear could be a powerful motivator for any being and Lurze was using it to fuel his flight. Already the Rodian was nearly out of the compound. Fulenjo took a second to assess his surroundings. The corridors in this enclave twisted back and forth and there would still be some civilians as well as a mix of maintenance droids in the way. Force speed would do him little good because he'd have to turn around a corner every few minutes.

Instead Fulenjo gathered the Dark Side to him and leapt up. Landing on the rim of the docking bay he could sprint along the relatively flat and straight rooftop. He came down, realizing with a twinge of irony that this was exactly how one of his fellow Sith had ambushed him, and harnessed his momentum propelled him into a run. He used the Force to power his legs, driving him nearly as fast as an airspeeder.

All the while he kept track of where Lurze was through the Force. Twenty seconds after leaping to the rooftop he reached the edge and hurled himself off. The fall on this side was easily thirty meters and Lurze was another twenty away. Silently Fulenjo angled through the air, not bothering to cushion his fall with the Force, instead he created a cocoon around himself and pummeled into the back of the Rodian. He felt several bones crack beneath him as he drove the Rodian to the ground. With a ton of momentum Fulenjo rolled another two meters before bringing himself to a stop. In the moon light he could make out Lurze body, unmoving but still a flicker in the Force.

Getting to his feet he ambled towards the Rodian and prodded him over onto his back with one foot. "Sorry Lurze," he said to the unconscious lump. "Time runs out for everyone eventually."

"Your time has run out too it seems," a nasal voice called from behind him.

Scowling Fulenjo turned to face this new threat. "Get lost Galon, you don't stand a chance."

"Which is why Master Uthar had me bring backup," Galon stated. The geeky Sith was still Sith after all, he knew what it meant to be strong. He wouldn't back down from a task given to him by Master Uthar.

On either side of Galon two other students could be seen and four Sith troopers were already skirting around him in a circle to provide multiple points of attack. They were trained to take down Jedi by doing this, taking down a Sith should be similar.

Eyes narrowing as he stared down Galon, Fulenjo could feel the Dark Side rising in him like an explosion being fueled by his immense anger at Master Uthar and this test that was designed to kill Fulenjo. The anger blossomed within his soul and he lashed out at those around him. The troopers fired and Fulenjo didn't even bother to bat the blaster bolts aside with his lightsaber. He let them come, their energy hurt but he pulled it into himself feeding the fire. The pain too he took and let it focus his anger. All that stood between him now were these seven and he could deal with that.

A howl of wind kicked up, stronger than anything that normally passed Korriban's wastes. Fulenjo created a massive whirlwind around himself and Lurze. The troopers kept firing, but their bolts burned into the dirt and stones that now shielded the two at the center.

Galon and the two other students tried to push forward into the vortex to strike at Fulenjo. But their arrogance only angered him more. The whirlwind increased in strength.

A rock the size of his head smashed into Galon's leg and he lost the focus that was keeping him pinned to the ground. He spun wildly up into the tornado knocking one of the troopers over. Up they both went. The three other troopers began backing away, to the edge of the maelstrom where the winds were weaker. Enraged that they would try to escape now that he clearly had them all Fulenjo expanded his storm and also the energy behind it; focusing on collecting all these tools of Uthar and dispatching them.

The two Sith students, closer to the center lost their footing and were picked up by the wind first. Then the troopers followed suit. Once Fulenjo had them all he brought them closer and the brought the tornado in tighter, speeding it up at the same time.

Lighting his lightsaber finally Fulenjo tossed it out into the storm. Letting his mind guide it's flight. It was difficult working against himself but the blade slowly spun through the debris to find the bodies cleaving each in two before he finally pulled the blade back to himself.

Satisfied that they were all dead he let the storm drop and rocks, dirt, and body parts went whirling away. Without a focus his anger ebbed and the energy that drained from him left him physically weakened. He dropped to his knees next to Lurze and took in several deep breaths while sapping lightly on the Force to replenish his strength. He looked down on the Rodian, still unconscious, covered with dust but having suffered no damage from the storm.

Standing; he grabbed Lurze back the back of his collar and began dragging him off the path. A couple of boulders a dozen meters off the path were grouped together. He dropped the Rodian once they were there and sat down for a longer rest. Giving himself and Lurze a few moments rest before the test continued.

Once he'd fed energy to all his limbs again he produced a small injector from his pouch. Similar to battle stims that were popular among warriors these days; the liquid inside was like a low-grade adrenaline shot but more important was the miniature device that would also shoot into the Rodian. He pressed it to Lurze's neck and depressed the trigger. The injector instantly shot the substance into Lurze. The Rodian's black eyes flickered open but it took him a moment to focus on Fulenjo. "What now?" the alien asked, moving the muscles in his face caused the dust to shift and slide away in spots.

"Your contacts Lurze," Fulenjo said flatly. "Who do you work with off-world?"

"I tell you and then you kill me?"

"Those were my instructions," Fulenjo said, choosing those words deliberately.

"No, I won't say," Lurze said firmly, turning his head away. From the way he was breathing shallowly Fulenjo guessed he had a couple of cracked or broken ribs.

Fulenjo placed a hand on the Rodian's chest and pushed down slightly. Lurze cried out quietly. "Lurze, we can do this two ways. The first way I torture you and if necessary rip the information from your mind, which is also very painful and damaging. The second way, you tell me what I want to know, without torture, and then I entertain ideas how I could let you live."

"Swear it," Lurze squeaked out.

"No," Fulenjo said, "No promises. It all depends on you and the information you give."

As Lurze started speaking Fulenjo pulled out a recording rod and placed it close to the Rodian's mouth. Normally they could record great distances but the information was valuable and Lurze was speaking barely above a whisper. He named names, mostly contacts with the Exchange Criminal Cartel. But he also mentioned places and times where smuggling drops were made and how payments were collected. Finally, after over an hour he ground to a halt, "That's all I know."

"Good, now tell me how you think I can let you live…"

"I'll get off-world. Tomorrow morning the _Cry Baby_ is set to leave. The Captain owes me a favor. I'll go far away. Just help me to the ship tonight."

Fulenjo thought about it for a moment. "Here's the deal Lurze, I don't want so much as a whisper getting back to Korriban or the Sith that you're still alive. If I hear you are still out there I will find you and I will kill you and I can promise you it will be slow and painful. Change your name, drop your contacts and start fresh, when you run change ships a couple of times and aliases too."

"Yes, yes," Lurze agreed as enthusiastically as he could in his damaged state.

Reaching out with the Force Fulenjo made sure that his next words sank in. "Remember Lurze, that I gave you back your life when I could have easily taken it. You owe me and I may collect that debt one day."

"Of course, thank you," Lurze said.

**Chapter Three**

_Malak was strong, was he not? Revan was strong but Malak took from him, so therefore Malak was stronger… But for Malak to succeed he had to utilize several Jedi as a distraction and then struck from afar. Malak also had an apprentice he thought he might have to confront Revan with. No, Malak knew he was weak but he was an opportunist. He saw an opportunity and he took it. It almost makes me sad to think about what the Sith could have been under Revan and how they were so easily defeated under Malak. Let this be a lesson to you. The strong don't always rule among the Sith. Many times a weak opportunist has taken advantage of a situation and now people _believe_ that the new was stronger than the old. But belief does not automatically make it so. Among the weak, opportunistic Sith be wary of those that truly strong. But all others you will be able to brush aside with ease._

_From the Memoirs of Darth Traya_

_A year after the destruction of the Star Forge_

Master Uthar looked rather pale most of the time. Cringing in the shadows of the temple while you sent naïve minions out to do your dirty work left one without much color to the skin. When Fulenjo strode into the central chamber Master Uthar looked almost translucent. He stood and stared at Fulenjo with a great deal of shock that the other students and teachers milling about were not to dense to notice. Immediately whispers arose.

"You're… you're back," Uthar managed to say. "I thought I felt a flash of your anger but then you went quiet. I assumed you hadn't made it."

"Well you know what they say about assuming…" Fulenjo quipped with disdain for the older man.

"I do indeed," Uthar said. "Tell me, were you successful?"

"Have you seen Galon or Hijata around here?" Fulenjo asked loudly enough to be heard by the rest of those present.

"No. I haven't," Uthar conceded. "You are definitely strong with the Dark Side. You have the information?"

Raising one hand holding the recording rod Fulenjo pressed a button to play and Lurze's raspy voice spilled out. "When Davik died on Taris I started dealing with Goto out of Nar Shaddaa. He's agreed to supply me with the special spice that I provide for…" Fulenjo clicked it off.

"Excellent," Uthar said, a little apprehensive about how close his secret had come to being exposed right then and there. "Let me have it." He said reaching.

Fulenjo pocketed the device. "No. I'm going to keep it. I've already made a copy of it. Should you try something against me again the copy will come to light. Not that I think you would survive such an attempt."

Uthar's calm was shattered and he hissed, "You insolent little…"

Fulenjo cut him off. "If you thought you could take me I'd already be dead. You're weak old man. I'm just the first one to find out," his words were now quiet enough that the others couldn't hear. "Now congratulate me and tell me what a good student I've been. Then you're going to offer a personal recommendation for me to Lord Malak. You can go back to being Master of this academy. I have no plans to supplant you here. I want more than this so you have nothing to fear from me."

Uthar's eyes bored into Fulenjo. Finally he spoke loudly enough fro all to here him. "Congratulations on passing your final test. You have been an exemplary student. I will pass on a recommendation to Lord Malak himself."

Fulenjo bowed slightly, but kept his head up and his eyes locked onto Uthar's just in case the man tried to make a move with his eyes diverted. "Thank you, Master. You have been an excellent teacher. I will continue to follow in path you have guided me on."

Fulenjo stood and took two steps back, out of the reach of a lightsaber before turning his back on Uthar and walking away. It was a dangerous gambit. Uthar could have blasted him with lightning in the back but Fulenjo knew he wouldn't. Uthar was weak because he viewed his addiction as a weakness. If it were exposed he wouldn't survive the scandal because he didn't think he could survive the scandal. Unless Uthar's rage overcame his fear he would never be more than he was and Fulenjo was actually impressed with the man for rising as far as he had.

Fulenjo made his way to the 'freshers where he cleaned up. Taking a nice long shower and letting the heavy droplets of water wash away the tension as well as the dirt and sweat. The cool water felt wonderful on the mild burns he'd suffered from the blaster bolts. He thought about sending his burned and tattered uniform to the Academy laundry but just trashed it instead then went to pull on the clean one he'd collected form his bunk. But when he'd reached for it the nicely folded uniform was gone.

"I brought you something," the soft voice of Raki called from the other side of the room. He turned just as she tossed some black clothes on his face. Pulling them down he saw that they were the black robes the Sith wore once they'd graduated. He looked up to see that she was dressed in them already.

"I take it your test went well," he said as he pulled on the robes. They were a little rough and the fabric was stiff from not ever being worn before but he liked the feel of them compared to his trainee uniform.

"Simple," she said. "Kill a few wraids and tuk'ata, evade some Terentatek, one mental puzzle, grab a lightsaber and come back out. No big deal. What about yours?"

"I killed six of our classmates and four soldiers that Uthar had sent to make sure I didn't make it back. I'm still here, though. So, Uthar didn't have a choice but to say that I'd passed."

"Who?"

"A few of the newbies, then Galon and Hijata."

"Poor Galon, he was weird but not a bad guy," Raki said as she helped Fulenjo finish getting dressed by tightening his belt.

"Do you know what you'll be doing next?" Fulenjo asked.

"Master Uthar has asked me to stay on for a few months and help train new Sith," she said proudly. "I'm also going to take over running the dueling chamber from Adrenas. Apparently he hasn't been doing a very good job lately and a student or two has received more than their fair share of captives to practice with," she said with sarcasm.

"He might also keep you around hoping for a repeat of the other night," Fulenjo pointed out.

"He can hope," Raki said, "But it's not going to happen. Not unless I need something else from him. What about you, did Uthar mention anything to you yet?"

Redjetta shook his head as he clipped on his lightsaber and tucked away the few other things he had into his pockets. "He didn't expect me to come back. But I'll bet my assignment will be far away from here."

"Why do you say that?"

"I told him I didn't want to stay here. He also won't want to keep me around."

"Can I ask why?"

"No, it's between me and him."

Raki led them out of the men's room before asking. "You up for some celebrating tonight?"

Fulenjo shrugged. "Sure, but not here. Let's get a nice room in one of the hotels."

"Your treat?"

"Of Course."

"I'll see you tonight then."

It had been a while since Fulenjo had woken up with a hangover. The only reason he'd let himself drink so much was that he'd seen Raki down almost twice as much as he had. He'd heard her get sick once in the night in the 'fresher but he'd almost immediately passed out again. When he woke up he found her next to him again. She'd taken care of herself and fallen back asleep. He considered killing her now; after all they'd tried to kill each other so many times before. But he didn't feel the need. They weren't really rivals any more. They were both full-fledged Sith and she would be staying here while he went elsewhere.

He sat up, swinging his legs out from between the silk sheets and over the edge of the bed. Almost immediately wished he hadn't. Dizzy he sat there fro several minutes before making his way to the shower and turning it on. He let the water run hot and the steam filled up the bathroom. He sat in there breathing the steamy air for a while before stepping into the shower. He could smell the alcohol that had sweat out through his pores as the water first hit it. He leaned against the shower wall and stayed like that for nearly an hour as he tried to calm the pounding in his head.

Raki eventually stumbled into the shower and they both curled up on the shower floor and let the water beat down on them. After they were both feeling better Raki spoke. "I'm going to miss having you around, Jo. It's been fun."

This brought his head up and he tried to focus on her but it took a moment. "Too much fun, sometimes," he agreed.

She snorted. "Like last night."

"Or the night we stole all of Kel's clothes and he had to run around the temple naked looking for them," Fulenjo recalled.

She snorted a laugh again. "You remember the look on Yuthura's face when she tried to scold us. You could tell she was trying to keep in her own laughter."

"Kel was so mad," Fulenjo said, thinking about how the other man had come at him with a lightsaber while still half-naked.

"He left, you know," Raki interjected.

"What do you mean?"

"He left the academy. I don't think he could take it anymore. He always was kind of a softie," Raki elaborated. There was a moment's pause as the two thought about their old class mate. Then she asked, "You think we'll ever have to fight against him?"

"You're assuming that he will join the Jedi," Fulenjo pointed out.

"Where else would he go?"

"He could go anywhere and be anything. He doesn't necessarily have to go over to the Jedi."

"Ok, so assuming he does, do you think we'll ever have to fight him?" Raki asked again.

"I don't know. Maybe," he thought about it more. His thoughts still coming slowly but much clearer than they had an hour ago. "Probably. With the number of engagements that are being fought it will probably just be a matter of time before we come across him, or Thalia, or one of the others."

"Could you kill them? I mean, I kind of pity those that don't have our strength. I know I _can_ kill any of them…" she trailed off.

"In a fight I don't think you'll be given any option but to kill them. If you don't, they'll kill you. It'll be just like it is here," Fulenjo said, reassuring her. This was the closest he'd ever seen her to questioning the teaching. Maybe the final test had opened her eyes like it had his.

"You're right," Raki hiccupped once, "I must still be a little drunk since I keep rambling."

When they finally clambered out of the shower a few hours later and checked the time it was well into the afternoon. "Guess we got a little carried away last night, huh?" Raki said as the pulled on their black robes.

"I'll tell you, if I can ever remember everything that happened," Fulenjo replied. His burns were still a little tender but they didn't really bother him any more. His victory over the final test really had set him free, just as the Sith Code said. A lot of things that would have worried him before no longer concerned him. He didn't suffer beneath Uthar's weakness and teaching any longer. He was not bound by the rules and standards of the Academy. He felt free and that feeling was enough to overpower any injury that still pained him.

Once they were both dressed they checked out of the hotel, having to pay extra for missing the standard checkout time. They made their way back to the Academy to find Master Uthar glowering at them as they entered. "I trust you two have gotten it out of your system," he said in a chastising tone, but Fulenjo brushed aside the man's remarks but he could tell Raki still felt subservient to Uthar.

Uthar huffed. "Raki, Adrenas has been waiting for you for some time to show you around the controls for the dueling room. You'll be lucky to find him."

"Yes Master Uthar," Raki gave Fulenjo a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you around."

"Not likely," Uthar said. "We've been holding a transport to take Mr. Redjetta to the Star Forge where he will be tasked by Lord Malak personally."

"Guess I won't then," Raki said. She gave Fulenjo a smile as she pinched his rear again and then scampered off.

"Get your stuff, Fulenjo, and get out. Docking bay C-17."

Uthar spun away from him, clearly enraged at the sight of him. Fulenjo shrugged it off and went to pack his belongings.

**Chapter Four**

_Enjoy the quite times you have. You may not remember them months or years later. But you will come to appreciate them when you are faced with constant strife and battling endlessly. I time of rest is good to learn, to study, to plan and prepare, and to reflect. These moments can be more valuable than a victory on the battlefield because they allow you those victories. Others may view this as a weakness but they will be easily overcome. Don't rush heedlessly forward. In my time I've had plenty of chances to ponder and they are why I have achieved all that I have._

_From the Memoirs of Darth Traya_

_Shortly before the betrayal of Darth Sion and Darth Nihlus_

For perhaps the first time in years, or so it felt like, Fulenjo Redjetta was able to relax. The officers aboard the freighter transport weren't like other Sith. They weren't Force-sensitive and their ambition was mild. He spoke to them briefly before retiring to his cabin for the remainder of the trip. Once he was there he finally found the solitude he needed to delve into holocron of Simus. He sank to the floor leaning up against his bunk and studied the device for a moment.

Simus had been a Sith Lord that had lived a millennium earlier. While never the ultimate Lord of the Sith he had contended for the throne at one point but been spared by his adversary Marka Ragnos, with spared being a relative word. His head was severed from his body but with the Dark Side he was able to keep it alive and he continued to live for several centuries. Eventually outliving his rival. Too weak to claim the throne his apprentice, Naga Sadow did so and then initiated the Great Hyperspace War.

After brushing it with the Dark Side the pyramid-shaped holocron opened and Simus' head materialized just above it, resting in the crystalline prison that had helped preserve his life. Simus managed to look up at Fulenjo somehow without tilting his head back. "Ahh, you have returned. It's been a while; I feared you may have been killed."

"They tried," Fulenjo said, still a little uncertain of the technology behind the holocron. A simple holocron contained information, lectures, and a basic hologram that one used to access both. The Sith had taken this and managed to infuse it with some of their power and their personality. So a holocron acted like the personality of the once who'd created it.

"Your fellow students, I presume," Simus hazarded a guess. His skin looked rather decayed as it must have in real life but there was no dismissing the wisdom in behind the eyes.

"At the order of my Master," Fulenjo added.

"You are growing strong if they fear you so. How many were sent against you? Two? Three?"

"Six," Fulenjo said proudly, "and then four soldiers and two war droids."

"Impressive," Simu said. "We're these your first kills?"

"No," Fulenjo said. "I've done assassinations before."

"So, you are a killer," Simu said.

"I kill when I need to," Fulenjo replied, there was an important distinction in his mind between himself and the brutish thugs that most of the Sith were made up of. When he killed it was for gain. Others seemed to kill just to kill.

Simus' face cracked into an amused smile. "And if you don't need to?"

"Then what's the point?"

"Excellent," Simus hissed. "You are wiser than many. To kill without reason or without gain brings you nothing. But you seem to know this already. Tell me about your master…"

"What about him?"

"You killed him, did you not?"

"No."

"No?" Simus drawled the word out. "But he used others to try and kill you."

"He is Master of an Academy. I don't want to claim dominion over just a school, a few teachers, and a handful of hopefuls."

"Good," Simus said in his hissing voice again. "You want more, this is what a true Sith would want." But still, tell me about him. Or rather, what you perceive of him."

"Uthar I always believed to be a strong Sith. He always presented himself this way. He made us fear and respect him. He killed a couple of the students while I was there. He spoke down to us, making us feel inferior."

"But this was not how he truly was?" Simus hazarded.

"He had a vice…"

"Most Sith do,' Simus countered.

"But he did not embrace it. He hid it from everyone and from himself. He was afraid and he could not conquer his fear. This is why he was weak," Fulenjo stated.

"He was the Master," Simus pointed out. "He could have killed you. Cut you down."

"No he couldn't," Fulenjo said. "I uncovered his secret and survived his ambush. I became associated with knowledge of his vice in his mind. He could have tried, but he didn't. Even if he had I took steps to ensure that I would get the last laugh. Evidence would have surfaced about his habit and he would have known that even in death I could still hurt him."

"So he did not even strike at you?"

"Not after I defeated his pawns. I know he didn't expect me to survive. But I'd never shown myself to be strong enough to survive before that."

Simus hissed a laugh. "What need do you have of me? Already it seems like you have mastered misdirection and have great wisdom about when you should take a life and when you should spare it."

"I hope you have something of value to say," Fulenjo said as heheld up the holocron, "This is the last of your legacy and I'll destroy it if its worthless."

"As you must," the image of Simus agreed. The image sighed resignedly. "I will tell you what I know. I can teach you how to harness the power that your masters have awoken. You have skill, I can teach you mastery. You have strength, I can teach you power. You have charisma, I can show you how to lead."

"Teach me," Fulenjo commanded.

Simus smiled.

The Star Forge was the most massive space station Fulenjo had ever seen. Twenty times larger than any capital ship he had every seen, the Star Forge was designed with a central sphere and three fins that ran beyond the sphere. What was even more incredible was that the stations appeared to be drawing energy and raw materials from the star around which it orbited.

It had taken nearly an hour for Fulenjo to make his way from the hangar where his transport had left him all the way to the viewing platform where Lord Malak was overseeing the operations of the station. The room was massive with transparisteel viewports along the entire wall. Three short ramps led up from the main floor to a walkway that offered better views out and over the exterior of the Star Forge. In the distance the system's closest planet Iwar could be seen along with much smaller pricks of light that were undoubtedly elements of the Sith fleet, closer but still miniscule.

There were rumors everywhere about how Revan and Malak had acquired such a massive fleet in such a short time. Sure they had managed to commandeer a number of Republic ships, they had countless worlds at their command but nothing could explain where the fleet had come from. That was until Fulenjo had seen the Star Forge. Rumors had persisted that the two Sith Lords had discovered an ancient factory capable of producing mass quantities of war droids and starships. It had seemed far-fetched. After all, wouldn't such technology already be put to use.

Fulenjo didn't know how the technology had come to be, or how long the space station had sat abandoned. He didn't even know how Revan and Malak had managed to find it and get it operational again. But what he did know was that he no longer had to speculate about how Revan and Malak had assembled their fleet. The space stations was absolutely massive. Producing a sector fleet probably only took it a month or two to build. Traditional shipyards would probably take a year to build a similar fleet. Seeing the Star Forge, Fulenjo was certain that the Sith would ultimately be victorious so long as they controlled it.

Standing just at the entrance of the viewing platform Fulenjo spotted Lord Malak overseeing a group of technicians and Dark Jedi as they worked on what looked like a kolto healing tank. As Fulenjo approached he saw that inside the tank hung a man. He had severe burns and looked dead. Fulenjo stretched out with the Force and found the man's presence amid the darker, stronger presences of those around him. He was weak but he was alive. Fulenjo wondered what was so important about the man that warranted the attention of the Dark Lord himself. But as he looked around he saw that the man was not the only one in a kolto tank in the room. He spotted at least five others hanging lifelessly in tanks.

His curiosity caught Darth Malak's attention and the Dark Lord broke off from the group to cross the last few meters. The Dark Lord was taller than any normal man Fulenjo had met before. His lean, muscled frame was highlighted by the deep-red, skintight jumpsuit he wore. A grey shoulder cloak and long decorative loin cloth gave him a swirl of stylishness. His head was shaved and striped tattoos led back over his skull. Most menacing about the Dark Lord was the metal face mask he wore over his lower jaw, leaving just his nose and eyes exposed above it. Fulenjo had heard Malak had lost his jaw in a lightsaber duel with a Jedi but his mastery of the Force had allowed him to not only survive but to carry on and defeat his adversary.

"Fulenjo Redjetta," he said flatly. His voice was deep and metallic, like a the sound a demonic droid would make. "Uthar Wyn thinks I should kill you right now."

Fulenjo grimaced, but a double-cross by his old master was to be expected. "And what do you think, My Lord?" He asked as he bowed his head slightly in deference to the Dark Lord.

"I think that Uthar is pathetic and weak. If he wanted you dead he should have done it himself," Malak said.

"He tried," Fulenjo said. "Not himself, but he sent several students against me."

Malak's chuckle was deep and malicious. "Yet here you stand." He was quiet for a moment and Fulenjo could feel the Dark Lord probing him with the Force. "I had hoped one strong enough to cow Uthar would serve me as an apprentice after my last was such a disappointment. But I don't sense subservience in you. You want to lead and that would put us at odds too early."

"I could be a valuable asset," Fulenjo said, trying to ingratiate himself to the Dark Lord. The position of this man's apprentice was something that many highly coveted. But as he spoke he realized the truth behind Malak's words. Fulenjo wanted to conquer and rule. He would never be happy as second man.

"No," Malak said.

"What now, then?" Fulenjo asked. "Will you strike me down?"

Malak shook his head. "Go to Malachor. Speak to the three Masters there. From them you will learn skills reserved for the elite among the Sith. Think of the Academy on Korriban as elementary school. The Academy on Malachor is like a university. You will refine what you have learned and develop your skills to become a master… or you will die. You will become a master in one of the three aspects of Sith society. Once you have done so, return to me."

"As you will, My Lord," Fulenjo said with another slight bow. Knowing he'd been dismissed he backstepped and then turned away.

Darth Malak was already berating one of the technicians for his clumsiness before Fulenjo had left the observation platform. He was disappointed and relieved Malak hadn't taken him as an apprentice. He didn't really think the man worthy of his position as the head of the Sith. But neither was Fulenjo strong enough to challenge him. 

Again Fulenjo Redjetta found himself on a Sith transport ship. This time headed to the graveyard world of Malachor V. He had never been there but the stories he heard painted a grim picture. The planet itself had mostly been destroyed at the end of the Mandalorian Wars by Revan. The planet had been a taboo in Mandalorian culture and Revan had used that against them, eventually luring the Mandalorians to the world with a massive Republic fleet.

Revan had boarded the flagship of Mandalore the Ultimate and single-handedly defeated the head of the Mandalorians. Then the Mass Shadow Generator had been activated. The super weapon created enormous amounts of gravity that drew in everything within its reach, Mandalorian, Jedi, Republic, civilian, everything. It crushed it all and the planet too, cracking it into a cluster of planetoids that only tenuously stuck together through remaining gravity anomalies.

Now the friction of the planetoids rubbing together and the tectonic activity that endlessly assaulted the surface created massive build-ups of static electricity that resulted in incredibly ferocious lightning storms absent clouds or anything normal as electricity shot from rock to rock, planetoid to planetoid, and even out into space to strike angrily at the derelict ships that now orbited the world.

The death that had echoed out from the world had rung in the heads of any Force-sensitive with even mild training. Training with the remains of the Mecrossa Order, Fulenjo was well attuned but not quite experienced enough for the death he had felt wash across him. It was at that moment he had decided the Mecrossa Order couldn't offer him the power he craved. Killing a single person might advance a small scheme a little bit. Having the ability to kill a world was enough power to control the galaxy.

Heading to Malachor V filled him with anticipation and at least a little dread. Not for looking at all the death, but for the challenges that lay ahead of him. Not even Master Uthar had attended the Malachor Academy. It was reserved for the elite, and while Uthar was accomplished he was far from elite. Where as one out of two Sith hopefuls might graduate from the academy on Korriban. It was rumored that less than one out of ten experienced Sith would survive the training on Malachor.

With this in mind Fulenjo settled to the floor again, pulling out the holocron of Simus. The decrepit head of the long-dead Sith Lord sprang to life with an eerie orange light. "Still alive, I see," Simus remarked.

"I met with Lord Malak, the head of the Sith," Fulenjo said.

"You mean the temporary head of the Sith," Simus corrected. "Change your thoughts and you will change your reality."

"The temporary head of the Sith," Fulenjo conceded.

"What did he say?"

"He rejected me as his apprentice."

"Are you surprised?"

"No."

"Good, his teachings would only weaken you. Any master of the Sith knows that they have to keep their apprentice weak if they are to continue to be the master."

"He has sent me to Malchor V to study under…"

"Malchor V?" Simus interrupted, suddenly his demeanor was less severe, more introspective as he seemed to be remembering something from long ago.

"You know of it?" Fulenjo pressed.

"Of course," Simus said. "Korriban may have been the homeworld of the Sith and Ziost our capital. But they were just planets before we touched them. The dark energies you feel on them are lingering effects of the dark energies we used to mold the environment to our will. Malachor… Malachor was different. The planet radiates evil, not darkness. A Sith uses the Dark Side to bend the universe to his will. The Dark Side on Malchor runs unchecked, unbalanced, and uncontrollable. Walking on its surface can drive the strongest mad. Before my time the Sith built an academy there but we lost too many students and eventually abandoned it, a few die hard masters stayed and the curious would venture forth to learn from them. Few returned."

"The academy is still there," Fulenjo confirmed. "But the world has been almost destroyed."

"Destroyed?"

"Almost," Fulenjo emphasized. "Malak has sent me to the academy to learn from its three masters."

"Three masters you say," Simus was again remembering something and Fulenjo just gave him time. "Three strong enough to stay on Malachor. Three strong enough to claim the throne of the Sith, but not motivated to do so. Hmmm…" Simus was quiet again for several moments, his eyes unfocused. "As if history repeats itself. Three masters. Two perhaps that have mastered death and one who wants only to deal it out."

"I don't understand," Fulenjo interjected into the silence that followed Simu' last statement.

"There have always been three masters of the Malachor Academy," Simus said. "It was believed that less than three would result in the destruction of the world. The three in my time were the greatest of the Sith, but exiled by my master long before I was born. They don't seek to build, conquer, and shape but rather to consume and destroy. Remember, Malachor corrupts _all_ who walk on the surface. It will corrupt you."

"I am strong," Fulenjo said.

Simus hissed out a short laugh. "You are. But the truth remains. Malachor corrupts. Do not stay long."

**Chapter Five**

_«__I am power. I consume. I crave. Nothing will stand in my way!__»_

_The Man who would become __Darth Nihilus to Darth Traya at Their First Meeting_

_Shortly after the end of the Mandalorian Wars_

Malachor V was everything that people said it would be and more. Before exiting from hyperspace Fulenjo had felt the dark power as they'd drawn closer. It wasn't the soft seductive voice that the Dark Side normally called to him with. It was painful, angry, and overwhelming. It reminded him of a wounded gundark; reeking of death, but fueling its pain into an anger that made it more dangerous than ever before.

When the ship reached orbit of Malachor, Fulenjo had to shut himself off from the feeling, closing down some of his sensitivity to the Force. It was so overhwelming that he didn't respond the first time there was a rap on the metal door to his room. Louder the second time he finally drew himself into the present. He tucked the holocron away, though he was still intrigued about the Lanvarok that Simus had been describing.

Opening the door on the mousy little man he let his irritation show in his voice, "What?"

The man swallowed hard, his larynx bobbing. "We've reached orbit, My Lord."

Fulenjo just stared at the man, his question going unasked. Waiting for the man to elaborate on why he had disturbed him.

"The captain has said he can't find the academy on the sensors and doesn't think he can land in the storm anyway."

Fulenjo was angry, but not at this man. He was angry at the captain's incompetence and cowardice. He brushed past the man that cowered to the side but quickly scampered after him as Fulenjo made his way to the cockpit. Fulenjo stepped into the small, two-man cockpit. The captain craned his neck around. Fulenjo stepped forward, unhooking his one-handed lightsaber.

"My lord, we've…" he let out a gargled scream as Fulenjo plunged the purple blade through the back of the chair and between the man's shoulder blades. It poked out his chest and just missed stabbing into the instrument panel.

Fulenjo leaned over the man's shoulder and close to the man's ear. He whispered, but was still loud enough that the mousy man behind him could hear. "Next time, Captain, don't send an underling to report you failures. It's insulting and pathetic." He switched off the blade and the man gurgled, his eyes frantically searching the small room for help that wasn't there. A moment later his head lolled forward and his presence in the force faded.

Fulenjo turned to the other man. "Can you pilot us through the storm?"

The man's brown eyes were wide with fear and he shook his head, "N.. no… M…My Lord. I'm n…not qualified as…as a p…p…p…pilot," he stuttered.

"You're honest, so I'll let you live," Fulenjo said, assuaging the man's fears. Fulenjo turned back to the dead captain and hit the release for the restraints that were keeping him upright. The man's body immediately sagged to one side. Calling on the power he felt here he pulled the man out of the chair with one hand and shoved him into the arms of the small man. "Dump him out the airlock and then get back up here."

Without the Force, the small man struggled to drag the dead captain out of the cockpit. Fulenjo watched him go for a moment before settling into the pilot's seat. He felt a warm spot on the back of the chair from where his lightsaber had burned through. He buckled himself in and scanned the instrument panel before him. He'd qualified as a pilot as part of his training under a Master of the Mecrossa Order because one never knew what skills they would have to draw on when assaulting a target. However, it had been over a year since he'd flown and he'd never flown a ship like this.

Luckily the Herald-class Shuttle was designed for use by the most mediocre of pilots, usually washouts from fighter pilot training. The control panel was laid out in a predictable and easy to use fashion. It also lacked some of the sophisticated controls Fulenjo had learned. There was no way to adjust the artificial gravity so he could feel a bit of what the ship was doing. There was no way to adjust shield strength or angle their power. A few other smaller less important systems also seemed to be completely automated with no way for the pilot to interfere with them. However, the control yoke was a two handed steering-wheel-like device which responded easily and swiftly to his touch.

After familiarizing himself he disengaged the autopilot that was keeping them in orbit and began a gradual dive, stretching out through the Dark Side he sought his target. Immediately he was assailed by the power of the planet but he let it come. He felt its power become his own. He felt eddies and swirls that were similar to yet completely opposite what the Force felt like in the rest of the galaxy. It was random and confusing. His brain tried to make sense of it but there was no pattern for his mind to wrap itself around. He stretched out with his feelings, scouring the entire planet fro something familiar as his ship entered the atmosphere.

Immediately the whole ship began to vibrate and shudder in the upper atmosphere and he still had no idea where he was headed. His copilot stumbled into the cockpit and was bounced roughly into his chair. He grabbed at his restraints quickly managed to get himself buckled. There was little for him to do except for monitor power output and hull integrity. Under normal conditions could also keep an eye on the long range sensors, but they were scrambled from the electrical storms. However, his primary duty was control over the ships two turbolaser cannons, neither of which they would need in their approach.

Through sheer force of will Fulenjo managed to slow the ship down as they came in closer to the planet and the friction fire that had burned around them as they came in faded away as they slowed. The ride was no less bumpy here, though. Ferocious updrafts from deep canyons would buffet the ship upwards several hundred meters before a corresponding downdraft would replace it and nearly smash them against the planet's surface.

Still stretching out with the Force Fulenjo touched upon a small spot of control. The fury of the world was just as intense, but the spot was controlled. In all the chaos around them Fulenjo guessed that the spot could only be one thing, the Academy. It was several hundred kilometers away, a quick trip in a space ship on any other world. On Malachor it meant over two hours of white-knuckle flying through canyons and valleys. Fulenjo had tried to climb up and over several mountaintops, but he soon found out that the mountains acted like natural lightning rods and it was safer to fly low and slow, rather than up high where an electrical discharge could incinerate the ship. The turbulence constantly buffeted them and once a cross-wind had caught them and nearly dashed the ship along a cliff-face.

Another updraft had sent the ship into an end-over-end spin that his copilot had vomited during. Luckily, he'd had a bag on hand. Clearly it wasn't the first time he'd gotten flight sick. A scrape along the ground and the man had fainted away, but Fulenjo couldn't let himself do the same.

Battling against his own mind's desire to shut down and his own stomach's rebellion he'd finally reached the nexus of control. A lull in the weather and he spotted a ledge large enough to land on in front of what could only be the academy. He brought the ship in slowly, still not trusting the weather but he landed the ship without further incident.

Shutting the ship down he had to find the post-flight checklist since his copilot was still unconscious. As he worked he looked out at the academy. The massive entrance way was sleek and grand, cut into the face of the cliff. Before it a narrow bridge crossed the chasm to the ledge where Fulenjo had parked the ship. While he couldn't see anyone he felt eyes from the academy watching him.

Fulenjo almost left the unconscious copilot slumped in the seat as he was leaving. But then considered the man for a moment. He was weak but he was obedient. Fulenjo placed a hand on the man's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Remember me!" he hissed softly, driving his words into the man's brain. "I am Fulenjo Redjetta and you owe me your life!" He left the man and the ship behind, knowing that both would be tasked by the Sith again.

Outside the air was fetid, smelling of mildew and rotten flesh. The atmosphere felt charged, perhaps from the lightning perhaps from the Dark Side, maybe both. Despite the smell Fulenjo breathed deeply, letting the power he felt enter his body. It felt good, but also wrong. It was an aberration. The Dark Side here beckoned him to stay, to feed on it as it would feed on him in turn. He recognized why Simus had warned him of the place. Everything he had wanted previously seemed to melt away and he could see himself staying here and feeding on the Dark Side.

It took a great deal of will to banish the thoughts from his mind. He was here to learn and grow stronger, nothing more. He could never stay, because staying would mean he would never live up to his potential. But still the world tried to tell him to stay. Recognizing that the thoughts weren't his own let him move past them, though. He cleared his head again and strode for the bridge.

The feeling of being watched only intensified and he tried to lock onto the feeling but it was too diffuse and when he tried to pinpoint a presence it scattered only to congeal again when his focus moved on. He walked across the bridge with confidence, though his nerves were on end. He felt like he was walking into a trap but the trap may or may not be sprung. It all depended on him.

As he approached the steps that led up to the door of the academy a figure hidden beneath the cowl of a robe stepped forth. Fulenjo could sense that this was just one of the many presences that had been monitoring him. She stood at the top of the steps, waiting for Fulenjo to make is way up to her. When he reached top he bowed slightly, as he had to Malak.

"You come before me, but you do not kneel," the old woman said pulling back her hood enough for Fulenjo to see her features. He face was weathered from the years and her eyes had gone white and lost their focus as the woman was clearly blind.

"I do not know who I am greeting," Fulenjo said.

"Lies," the woman spat. "You know that I am master of this Academy. That is enough. Now _kneel_!"

Fulenjo could feel the weight of her will pressing down upon him to comply. He struggled out from under it. "No. I did not kneel for Lord Malak, I will not kneel for you."

The old woman cackled and he felt the pressure she'd been exerting slacken a little. "Malak is a fool and a weakling. You would be worse if you had. I am Darth Traya, master of this Academy. And _I_ command you to _kneel!_" The assault on his will came again, ten times stronger than what it had been before. Fulenjo found himself stumbling forward, almost to his knees.

"And if I refuse?" he asked through grit teeth.

The woman only smiled as she seemed to consider him for a moment. Then, abruptly the pressure was gone. "It is such a small thing to kneel and swear obedience," she remarked. "However, many do it without thinking and without sincerity. You do not kneel and yet I know I can trust you more than the others. Strange is it not?"

Fulenjo suspected it was a rhetorical question and didn't answer. He just continued to study the old woman. Never before had he felt such power. He doubted that he could have withstood it if not for Simus' teachings.

"What is it you want from me?" the woman asked.

"I have come here to learn. I was sent by Lord Malak," Fulenjo said.

"And what is it you hope to learn?" she asked.

"I wish to master the ways of the Sith."

"To what end?" she asked, cocking her head to one side. "Do you wish to become an accomplished Sith Assassin, killing for the Sith with subtlety and guile? Or perhaps a Sith Marauder, the most accomplished of warriors, able to batter down an enemy in combat. Or does the way of the Sith Lord call to you, leading the legions into battle and directing the workings of worlds?"

Fulenjo considered this for a moment.

"You need not decide now," the woman stated.

"Must I choose only one?" Fulenjo asked. "What if I want to master _all_ aspects of the Dark Side?"

The woman's smile was humorless. "That is reserved for the elite. Revan, Malak, myself, and few others. What makes you think you can join us?" she challenged.

"What makes you think I can't?" Fulenjo countered.

"You are arrogant," she remarked. "A trait common among Sith. But not necessarily beneficial."

"Not arrogant," Fulenjo countered. "Confident. And experienced."

The woman cackled again. "So you bested your old master? That means little here. Not a student here hasn't bested their master before being allowed to come here and learn. That is why Malak sent you here." Her demeanor shifted from disdain and amusement back to serious contemplation. "You are strong. If you wish to master all aspects, so be it. But you have to start somewhere. You were once an assassin, you will train to be an Sith Assassin first."

"I don't need training to be an assassin," Fulenjo stated. "I've proven myself already."

"Not to me," the woman countered. "Besides, your skills are nothing compared to that of a _Sith_ Assassin."

"I…" Fulenjo opened his mouth to protest but a figure suddenly materialized next to him, two red eyes less than a meter from him. Fulenjo's mind called him to action but he could get less than a half step away before the being with red eyes swung a force-pike up into his stomach, doubling him over. Fulenjo was lucky the pike has been turned off, or he would have been gutted open.

Another being materialized on the other side of him. Clearly they both had used personal stealth-field generators and the force to disguise themselves from him. This one brought down a blunted force-pike into his back and Fulenjo collapsed to his knees gasping for breath.

"Now you kneel," the woman said pleased. He could feel her presence as she wormed his way into his mind. In pain, there was little he could do to resist her. "You may be accomplished assassin… Fulenjo Redjetta… but you are nothing more than a child pretending when compared to the assassins I train here. You will learn these methods first, just as you have already learned humility."

Fulenjo could only stare impotently up at her. He felt the shadow of a third assassin come up behind him. "I accept your allegiance, Fulenjo Redjetta." The woman said. "I am Darth Traya." With those words the third assassin struck him on the back of the head.

**Chapter Six**

_It is only through interaction, through decision and choice, through confrontation, physical and mental, that the Force can grow within you._

_Darth Traya to the Jedi Exile_

_Sometime during their Travels Together_

Six months ago Fulenjo Redjetta had woken on a cot in the Trayus Academy with a headache nearly as large as his shame. He'd bumbled around awkwardly that first week, recovering from his wounds and trying to find his place within the academy. This wasn't like Korriban. Here the Sith only spoke to each other when absolutely necessary. No one told him when classes or sparring sessions were set. No one told him who the masters were, or even who the students were. He hadn't seen Darth Traya since their first meeting nor anyone else that was distinctive enough to be one of the academy's other two masters that Simus had warned him about.

After a week he had managed to find the routine that the academy, or at least the Sith Assassins of the academy, adhered to. A small mental prod by one of the senior assassins would be sent out, barely perceptible but it was a summoning. One never knew when such a summoning would be issued and after attuning himself to them he had thought he was doing well to attend the impromptu classes. It wasn't until two weeks later when he'd woken without cause in the middle of the night that he realized he was missing classes that were being called at odd hours. Ever since then he was fairly certain he was making it to all the classes that the senior assassins were calling, though the odd hours were taking a toll on him.  
Not long after Fulenjo had gotten into the groove of things did someone speak about something that was not related to the disciplines they were learning. One of the teachers entered another's class and waited silently for it to end. Once all the students had finished their exercises the teacher had informed them that Darth Malak had been killed and the Star Forge destroyed.

Fulenjo's heart sank. Having been to the Star Forge he knew it had been the Sith's key to victory. As depressing as the news was, he found that he was not discouraged. Around him he saw countless Sith warriors, with more power and greater skill than any, save for maybe Malak, that Fulenjo had met before. If Korriban could be likened to a Sith boot camp, then Malachor was the school for officers and elites. Fulenjo could still see a victory for the Sith, perhaps not as swift, but still there.

After being given his first Sith Assassin robe after about six weeks Fulenjo found that he'd been introduced into a whole new level in the training. Donning the robe was an open invite for the other assassin students, and even the teachers, to attack you. He'd barely pulled on the face hood with the light enhancing red eyes before another student had materialized from a cloaking device and clubbed him on the back of the head. Two concussions later he figured out what was going on and began to focus his awareness. He got good enough that he could evade the other students. However, the teachers persisted. His skills continued to grow and eventually he found that he was able to sense them just before they struck. However, just because they'd missed him didn't mean they wouldn't press the assault and he found that his skills with a force-pike weren't as good as his lightsaber skills.

Forbidden from carrying his lightsaber while in the academy walls Fulenjo found that he wasn't getting enough practice with the pike in the few seconds that the teachers beat the stuffing out of him with it and the few sparring sessions against other students. He sought out the Sith Marauders that also prowled the halls, who were more than happy to help him hone his skills. Marauders were allowed to carry lightsaber so long as they just utilized their training mode; which meant they could give vicious burns and send nasty shocks through a persons system but loss of limbs and life was kept at a minimum. Gradually his skills increased and he was able to hold off and eventually defeat his teachers in combat.

Fulenjo also did his fair share of stalking and attacking. Learning how to hide himself in the Force and keep his presence scattered wasn't difficult. Keeping his mind occupied on other things while thinking about something else entirely was also easy to learn. Soon enough he was besting the other students in their little game on almost every occasion. On the day he stalked down and clubbed the ranking assassin teacher was the day that Darth Traya came back to him.

She called him to the Trayus Core, a chamber deep within the academy where he'd never been allowed to enter before. Huge claw-like structures ringed a circle that hung suspended above a geyser of erupting Dark Side energy. He found Darth Traya alone in the sanctum, her back to him and he considered sneaking up on her and clubbing her just as he had so many others. He thought back to that first day and the force of her will and then considered how much he had progressed. While he'd mastered a variety of Force techniques he didn't think he could stand up to her full fury yet. The skills he'd learned were those of an assassin, not someone who could pull such a prank on someone so powerful and expect to live.

As he drew closer she spoke without turning. "You have grown strong in these last few months. You have done as I asked and your experience as an assassin helped you excel through our training. In months you have mastered what takes others years and some do not master at all. I have known only a few to master it as quickly. But there is a test you must perform for me."

Drawing up behind her he stopped but didn't speak. He'd picked up the habit of not speaking during his training, mimicking what the other assassins did. It was hard for him to learn, being a social person, but at the same time there had been no one to speak to.

"I have sent a dozen assassins before you. I have even contracted with the Genohardan. But still this target persists. Perhaps you will succeed where the other have failed."

"Who's the target?" Fulenjo asked; his voice slightly raspy through the mask.

"Mandalore," Traya said.

"I thought he was dead."

"Mandalore the Ultimate is dead," she stated, her back still to him. "Another Mandalore has taken his place. A Taung, one of the last of the original Mandalorians. His ideals and ours do not mesh up. The throne needs to be vacant for a Mandalore more in line with our goals."

That should have been the end of it. Any other Sith Assassin would have left and pursued his target, not returning until they were dead, or not returning at all. Fulenjo was not like the other assassins here. "Why did the others fail?" he asked.

Darth Traya turned to face him, eyeing him as if her eyes still worked. "They sought quick strikes to kill him. They used their stealth and guile and snuck up to attack him. Mandalore is a warrior and not so easily killed."

"And the Genohardan?" Fulenjo asked.  
"They can't even get close to him. My own assassins fared better."

Fulenjo was silent as he thought about it.

"You have a problem with the assignment?" Traya questioned.

"No," he said. "But I was wondering about your timeline? Do you require him dead quickly?"

Traya arched an eyebrow. "No," she said. "But I don't want him to die from old age, either. Within the year is fine. Can you do it?"

"Yes. I'll be back when I have."

Deciding discretion was the best way to get to the new Mandalore Fulenjo Redjetta made his way to Nar Shaddaa. The planet was the perfect stopover; swarming with refugees from dozens of worlds and watched over by the Hutts and the Exchange with only moderate consideration for laws. The moon of Nal Hutta was a decaying ecumenopolis. Every hundred years the Republic would get it in their mind to alleviate the suffering of those on the world by cleaning it up and rebuilding it, but that had never worked. Instead the maintenance and upkeep of the planet was left largely to entrepreneurs who found that the planet had unlimited potential since there was little government oversight and the only taxes were tributes paid to the Hutts. Someone on the moon had convinced the Republic that they could take on all the refugees displaced by both of the recent wars… for a fee of course.

Slipping onto the world still in his Sith Assassin guise, Fulenjo found a public restroom near the docks that spacers used to clean themselves up. For a fee, a person could even take a shower with hot water. He waited until night time and the locker room was empty before he disrobed. He pulled on simple garments and stuffed everything that would mark him as one of the Sith into a duffel bag. He'd started to let his facial hair grow out the last few days, since accepting the assignment and with a simple razor he turned it into a goatee. Satisfied that he looked little like an aspiring Sith Lord he stowed his razor in a backpack along with a couple changes of clothes and a few other items. He strapped a worn down blaster to his hip, Nar Shaddaa was a rough place after all. He slung his backpack on and carried the duffel with his Sith gear tightly in his left hand.

Not far from the docks a chunky Rodian operated a storefront that was filled with lockers. The Rodian lounged out front, smoking on a long pipe, blowing out smoke rings now and again.

"Need to store your gear between flights, spacer?" the Rodian asked as Fulenjo ambled past.

"Got something long term?"

"How long?" the Rodian's eyes glimmered. "A week? Two? A month?"

"Maybe a year?" Fulenjo said. "And it needs to be really secure. Not these flimsy ones up front." He waved his free hand at the lockers he could see through the front window.

"I do. They're expensive, though," the Rodian said. "Must be paid up front."

"I need something you can't even get into with your override code," Fulenjo said.

"Hmm," the Rodian buzzed. "I have one available, big enough to hold one bag, not much else. Very expensive."

"How much?" Fulenjo asked.

"Two thousand," the Rodian said.

Fulenjo let the Rodian lead him inside and to the back of the lockers. The rodian unlocked a door and they stepped into a back room. Four more lockers, more like strongboxes were along one wall, while a desk and chair were up next to another. Fulenjo set his bag on the desk and turned to the Rodian. "I know you're ripping me off…"

The Rodian began to protest.

"…But I'll pay your price for your discretion," Fulenjo said. "I'm going to show you one thing in my bag so you understand who you're dealing with."

The Rodian's already big eyes bulged as Fulenjo unzipped his bag enough and he could see the lightsaber lying on top. "I got it," the Rodian stated.

"Good," Fulenjo said. "Because I'll give you another two thousand when I get back as long as you keep it to yourself." He used the Force to plant the idea into the Rodian's mind. It wasn't hard; the greedy little creature was pretty weak-willed.

The Rodian nodded and Fulenjo passed him the credits. The Rodian greedily eyed the credits in his palms. "Anything else I can do for you, sir?" the Rodian asked.

"Who's the best person to see about information?" Fulenjo asked as he stuffed the duffel into the locker. He shut it and placed his palm on the reader. Theoretically it would now only open to his hand print.

"One of the Exchange Bosses, Visquis or Saquesh or maybe Goto if you can get to him. Vogga the Hutt's pretty well connected. Depending on the type of information, an ex-bounty hunter Vossk, a trandoshan, might be able to clue you in for a lot less cost. Chadra-Fan named Kaalah-Nah is an information broker, can be found by the Pazaak Den, knows a lot about everyone and everyone goes to her. If she doesn't know, she can tell you who would."

"Thanks," Fulenjo said, he tossed a credit chip worth twenty on top of the pile in the Rodian's hands. He left the Rodian in the back room to revel in his good fortune.

Back out on the street Fulenjo looked around. He was on foot. He could have rented a speeder to get around but he didn't want to throw too many credits around. Just in his short walk so far he'd already seen dozens of homeless, either refugees or natives, sleeping on the streets. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. He cinched the shoulder straps for his backpack a little tighter and headed further away from the docks.

"Looking for a good time, spacer?" a sweet voice called from his left after a few minutes. He turned to see a Twi'lek street walker.

"Not right now," he declined. He hadn't even seen an attractive woman since leaving Raki Xesc behind but despite incredible advances in medicine there were still any number of diseases that could be picked up.

The Twi'lek shrugged him off and Fulenjo walked through the maze of streets, not entirely certain where he was headed. Never before had he seen such horrid living conditions up close. He'd read about it and seen holos capturing the worst of the conditions across the galaxy. But never before had he been so close to it. He almost pitied the creatures that lived in such squalor, yet right next to them were beings that were fabulously wealthy. He walked past one Hutt's den near the docks, easily the size of his estate back in the Tapani Sector and guarded by dozens of droids and living beings.

After walking around aimlessly for about an hour he came across the Entertainment Promenade. Brightly lit with pink neon, it was one of the few things still lit up as the night wore on. Seeing that the Pazaak Den that the Rodian had mentioned was inside he let himself be drawn in by the lights and the noise of the place.

Inside he nearly stumbled over a diminutive Chadra-Fan. The waist-high, rodent-like creature with big ears muttered something about clumsy humans. Fulenjo clamped down on his irritation by reminding himself it wouldn't do to blow his cover so early on. "I'm sorry," he apologized, he'd only used the words a few times in his life and they felt awkward in his mouth. "I'm looking for Kaalah-Nah."

"I am," the little creature chattered in her own language. It had been a while since Fulenjo had heard the language so he assumed that was what she had said.

"You're Kaalah-Nah?" he clarified.

"I am," The creature repeated. Fulenjo used a touch of the Force to verify that his impression was accurate.

"I'm looking for some Mandalorians," he said pulling out a few credit chits. The Chadra-Fan chattered for a moment but he didn't catch what she said. "I missed that, could you say it again?"

"Mercenaries? To hire? Lots of groups." Kaalah-Nah repeated irritated.

"No," he said. "I'm trying to get in touch with one of them off-world. I need to speak with someone connected to what's left of the Mandalorian culture.

The Chadra-Fan chattered but Fulenjo couldn't translate but the impression he got through the Force was clear. He held out the credits. The Chadra-Fan took them and then beckoned for him to follow.

Out into the night they went.

An hour later Kallah-Nah left him standing outside a door in a hallway for a set of semi-permanent rooms for rent. Not quite a hotel, but not apartments either the rooms were close to the docks, but also close to Vogga the Hutt's lair. Fulenjo scoped the area out and decided it was best not to confront a group of Mandalorians in the middle of the night. He waited until the morning before knocking on their door.

**Chapter Seven**

_I hav__e seen the futures. Not one, but many. Each future comes about based on choice. Years ago I saw Revan's choice and the two futures that would come from it. One in darkness one in light. Then I saw Malak's choice, both leading through the dark. But then a strange thing happened. Revan was given the chance to remake his choice. Never before have I seen a choice remade and futures reversed. It is interesting but I doubt I'll ever see it again. Now, when I look to the future I don't see constant darkness nor constant light. Instead I see something of a balance between the two, just as the sun rises to banish the night, only to set and be replaced by it. Again and again, for longer than anyone can comprehend._

_Darth Traya's Memoirs_

_Following the Destruction of the Star Forge_

Sitting in the cockpit of his Davaab-type starfighter Fulenjo Redjetta slowly and absent-mindedly moved through his post-flight checklist one handed. While he rested his other arm on top of the helmet he had worn for most of the last year. The fighter's two asymmetrical wings had rotated from the upper and lower position to either side of the ship when he'd come in for a landing. The cockpit was large for a starfighter and also more exposed, but it allowed him plenty of room to move around during long voyages and also afforded him a good look around as he studied the front of the Trayus Academy. It was almost the exact same view he remembered from his first time coming into the academy, an experience that seemed like it was a lifetime ago; so much had happened in the last year.

Not having drawn on the Force except for a rare few times in the last year he found all his skills with the Dark Side returning to him. The chaos of the Dark Side here seemed almost laughable when compared to his experiences within the last year. It didn't have the same sway over him as he immersed himself in the Dark Side.

Stretching out with his feelings and immediately felt the diffuse presences of the Sith here studying him. When he'd first come here he hadn't been able to pinpoint them. Now, knowing their tricks he was able to form a box in his mind around each presence that was spread out over several hundred meters. Slowly he contracted the box until he pinpointed the origin of one assassin. He repeated the process again and again until he knew where each Sith Assassin was around the academy. Although he couldn't see them he now knew there were at least thirteen of them outside and he had them marked in the Force.

The assassins were alert and more than a little wary. He could actually sense worry and fear in some of them. Undoubtedly they recognized the type of ship from the Mandalorian Wars and even with his helmet off they could see that he wore red _beskar'gam_, Mandalorian neo-crusader armor. Even with his helmet off he knew he wouldn't be recognized. His once unruly blonde hair was cropped short and he still boasted the goatee he had started growing when he'd left. His eyes bespoke of tragedies that no one here could understand.

Once finished with shutting down his craft he sat quietly for a moment before pulling on his helmet. Like the rest of his armor it was red, but unlike traditional neo-crusader armor it wasn't the continuous piece that normally flowed down to one's shoulders to protect the neck. Such armor decreased one's head movements and relied heavily on the internal views of the helmet. Fulenjo's was more bucket-shaped, but still with the traditional T-shaped slit in the front.

With a flick of a switch the bubble-shaped cockpit popped open. He set it to close as he hopped out and down to the ground, pulling the duffel he had collected from Nar Shaddaa with him. He had clipped his lightsaber to his belt, other than that he still carried a blaster low on his right hip and the wicked-looking vibrosword across his back. The dangling lightsaber clattered noisily against his armor and he felt a tad awkward carrying it after a year without it but he knew it would be the only thing that identified him as a Force-user. He could have broadcast his ability through the Force, identifying who he was but after the mystique the academy had wrapped around him his first time he liked the idea of keeping a few secrets to himself this time around.

He strode confidently but slowly across the bridge and wasn't surprised when Darth Traya appeared at the entrance to the academy just as she had the first time. However, her hood was pulled back, revealing her features this time and she kept her hands laced together before her. As he neared the steps he sensed where one of the assassins was just off his path. He altered his angle imperceptible, but not enough to notice and not quite enough to cause the cloaked assassin to move. As he came past the assassin, he struck out with a ferocious backhand powered by the Force. He felt the crack of his armored gauntlet smacking against the man's face and heard a crackle. The stealth field evaporated as the Sith Assassin was sent sprawling to the ground unconscious, one of the red eyes of his mask broken.

"I was beginning to wonder if you would ever return," Traya said from the top of the steps.

"I told you I would," Fulenjo said.

The other assassin's dropped their stealth fields when it became apparent that their master recognized the Mandalorian. Two hurried forward to collect their fallen comrade as Fulenjo continued to climb the steps.

"I sent three more assassins after you and the Genohardan tried again," Traya admitted.

"I know," Fulenjo said. "I killed them."

"Indeed?" though her tone implied a question Fulenjo knew she wasn't surprised by this.

"It was my assignment," he said. It was the truth but at the same time it wasn't. He hadn't killed them because it was his assignment. His reasons he couldn't even really wrap his mind around. But he'd done it and the reason was sound, especially among the Sith.

"You killed Mandalore?" Traya asked.

Fulenjo shook his head. "No," he said truthfully.

"No?" she asked.

"I fought him and I failed. He spared me. I poisoned him. Another Mandalorian killed him before the poison finished him off."

Traya was silent for a moment as she considered what he had said. He doubted that she was really surprised about anything he had said. "He is dead. That is what matters. You were successful. You are truly a gifted assassin. You could be of great use to us in dispatching our enemies."

Fulenjo shook his head. He'd returned to Malachor for only one reason. "That wasn't the deal," he said. "I've mastered the skills of a Sith Assassin. I want to master more skills and powers."

Traya's lips drew together in a slight scowl. Clearly she had hoped to break him of this notion. "You are powerful already. But I will humor you. We will see how far you can rise. Let's see if you can master the skills of a Sith Marauder. The final test won't be a test of your character like this last one, but it will be more demanding physically. Do you think you can do it?"

"I haven't come this far to stop now," Fulenjo said.

Traya took a step back and swept one arm back towards the entrance, welcoming him in, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

The room that Fulenjo was assigned he shared with another student, Chev Ulgo. There was more than enough room for both of them and Chev was respectful of Fulenjo's things and his side of the room. Fulenjo offered him the same respect. Chev was a tidy person and while Fulenjo had never been messy before, his time with the Mandalorians had taught him the value of clean and orderly kit, so their room was always well organized and spotless.

No longer a Sith Assassin, or a Mandalorian he tucked his Sith Assassin robes and _beskar'gam_ into a footlocker under his bed; the Maraduers trained in normal clothes and if it weren't for the impressive physique of most they could easily blend into the populations of most planets. He also tucked the holocron of Simus beneath his armor. He'd only spoken to the hologram of the severed head for a few minutes before returning to Malachor V. But not really seeking guidance only more information on the lanvarok that he had started assembling on his return. But he left the half-completed device in his ship, which he had moved to a cave that served as a hangar for the few ships that stayed at the academy.

Chev Ulgo had been training as a Marauder for over a year. He was at the top of the class of candidates. He had already bested most of the instructors in combat and his daily routine consisted of a five kilometer run over and through the dangerous terrain surrounding the academy. During which he would usually have to battle at least one of the planet's surviving storm beasts at least once a week. Following this exercise Chev would then spend time studying duels between some of the greatest swordsmen to ever live. Following a healthy lunch he would spar with whomever he could find in the dueling room if no one could be found he activated the academies droids to train with, often he would activate all five droids at once and battle through them. After this he would review the recording of his own duel, studying how he could have done better. Following dinner he would then attend the classes on combat.

Fulenjo quickly found that many of the other students followed similar, self-motivated patterns and he soon joined Chev on his morning runs and willingly pitted himself against the superior swordsman. Though, Fulenjo's first encounter with a storm beast left him in the medical ward for three days and his first fight with Chev found him there for considerably longer. Chev continued to beat him up with the training blade in the duels and he would even activate the droids and have all of them and Fulenjo attack him at once. The senior student was also willing to share with Fulenjo tips on how he could improve.

Over several months Fulenjo began to learn about the man. Chev was one of seven sons, all of whom had served in the Republic Navy. Chev and his twin had also served the Sith under Revan and Malak. His twin was killed and Chev was discovered to be Force-sensitive by the Sith Lord that commanded him in battle. The Sith Lord had trained him as an apprentice. They were both recalled to the Star Forge and his master fell in the fighting against the returning Revan. Chev hadn't faced Revan but had killed two other Jedi and when the station's stabilizers had been destroyed he stole a Republic fighter and escaped the station's destruction. Eventually he had crossed paths with Darth Sion who had brought him here.

Of the seven forms of lightsaber combat Chev was skilled in them all, but had mastered three. Form II, Makashi, meant he was extremely skilled at lightsaber-to-lightsaber combat and Chev hadn't been disarmed in combat in over nine months and the last to do so had been one of the instructors. A natural athlete, Chev had also mastered Ataru, or Form IV, and he could employ a number of jumps and spinning flourishes. Lastly, Chev had recognized the need to defend himself against blaster bolts and he'd laboriously mastered Form V, Shien.

Dueling against Chev and the others, Fulenjo began to refine his own lightsaber skills. His lightfoil was meant for one handed use and he could rarely stand up to the brute force employed by Chev and the others. He soon began to master Makashi, able to outmaneuver opponents using just the right touch of leverage or a superior position.

After taking a blow to the head from Chev during his fourth week of training Fulenjo woke up in the medical ward with Chev sitting next to him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, though his voice wasn't loud the sound still caused his head to throb.

"Felt bad about clobbering you on the head," Chev replied quietly, setting aside the datapad he'd been studying. "I've been told its pretty nasty to wake up from taking a shock like that to the head."  
"You've never experienced it?" Fulenjo asked with a slight grin, letting the pain and the Dark Side feed his natural adrenaline and endorphins, lessing the pain some.

"No," Chev admitted.

"I'd be happy to oblige you somtime," Fulenjo quipped.

Chev smiled softly. It was in moments like these when Chev did not seem at all like the blood-thirsty Sith Fulenjo had come to expect. Fulenjo knew how Mandalorians could switch from battle-rage to peaceful lovers, but it wasn't something taught among the Sith.

"Chev, let me ask you something…" Fulenjo moved to sit up but Chev put a hand on his chest pinning him.

"Don't sit up, you'll retch.," Chev said, when Fulenjo had settled back down he added. "Go ahead."

"How can you be so calm at times?"

"You mean, why am I not like other Sith?" Chev tried to clarify."

"Yes."

"I could ask the same of you," Chev stated. "Maybe that's why we've been paired up. You keep you emotions to yourself. You might be in pain or full of anger, but you keep them to yourself. It makes you unpredictable, not like the others."

"I didn't ask about me," Fulenjo pointed out.

"No… no you didn't," Chev agreed. He paused for a moment, considering how much he could trust his roommate. Then he heaved a sigh and began speaking again. "When serving in the Republic Army I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. They kept me on meds, though if we hadn't been at war I probably would have been drummed out of the service. When Revan took over I followed him. However, Sith supply lines weren't established yet. I ran out of medication at one point which is when I was discovered by my master. I was going about normally when we came under attack. I switched from calm to… I guess the word would be _murderous,_ in half a heartbeat. I went on a rampage and killed dozens of Republic soldiers. My master credited me with routing the surprise attack and also recognized the ability to tap the Force. I haven't gone back on meds since, however my Master did train me how to more easily switch from one mindset to the next. He said I was acting like a beast before, concerned only with survival. He taught me what more I could become."

Chev went silent, but Fulenjo had nothing to say so he just sat quietly, waiting to see if Chev had more to say. "You are calm all the time. Which I don't get," Chev stated. "At least on the surface. Looking at you, I see a Jedi fighting. Your face is calm, your body appears relaxed, as if fighting is no more strenuous than a short jog. But when I reach out to you, I feel all the anger that I use myself. It's an unsettling contradiction. Why do you do it?"

Fulenjo shrugged slightly as he lay back. "I grew up in the convoluted politics of the Tapani Sector. Appearances were everything. The only way to stab someone in the back was if you were smiling and shaking their hand at the same time. It's just second nature to keep my emotions in check."

"But we feed off our emotions. How can you be a Sith if you don't let them flourish?"

"I let them flourish," Fulenjo stated. "But I don't let them control me."

"Neither do I," Chev stated. "But I'm not afraid to show what I'm feeling."

"I'm not afraid," Fulenjo replied. "I just don't see a need in showing my emotions. As you said, it's an unsettling contradiction. It may help me throw opponents off-guard. Just as it threw political opponents off-guard when I was home"

"That I can see," Chev conceded. He stood up at that. "Well, get some rest, Jo. You don't want to get up anytime soon."

Chev left and Fulenjo decided he didn't want to lay here any longer. He sat up slowly, trying to keep the throbbing in his head udner control. Once he was up, the world started to spin and he was forced to admit that Chev was right about the retching.

The routine continued once Fulenjo had left the medical ward. He was out running every morning, then doing battle in the afternoons. Fulenjo quickly mastered his Makashi style and was able to use it to great effect against the training droids and other students. He even progressed against the instructors. However, Chev continued to best him regularly and quickly.

One day, Fulenjo finally managed to hold his own against Chev for nearly half an hour. Longer than any other student had held out recently; longer than even some of the masters. Chev had still emerged victorious and a swipe across Fulenjo's chest had fried his nerve ending and left Fulenjo curled in agony on the floor of the dueling room for several minutes. Chev sunk to the floor next to him, with his legs crossed in a meditative pose. The big man centered himself as he spoke to Fulenjo. "You know, Jo. You're a better duelist than some of those that have been here for years."

"Not as good as you," Fulenjo said through grit teeth as he focused on the pain. Using the pain to tell him where he was injured and how badly. He also sent energy to the source of the pain, speeding along the recovery. That didn't mean he could sit upright yet, though.

"The rumor going 'round is that you trained as a Sith Assassin before your training as a Marauder…" Chev stated, clearly hoping for a confirmation.

There were several reasons why Fulenjo had wanted to keep this secret. But most of them were petty and Chev was the closest thing he had to a friend so he conceded. "I did."

"You didn't like it?" Chev asked.

"Not really, but that's not why I didn't continue pursuing it."

"Why was that?"

"I came here to master all three disciplines. Once I'd master the arts of the Sith Assassin and been tested I turned to Marauder training," Fulenjo stated.

"And then to the ways of the Sith Lord after this?" Chev asked.

"That's the plan."

"You know, I can't quite picture you as one of the creeps with the red eyes skulking around the academy. Only showing themselves when they have to use a 'fresher."

"Have you seen any other's without their mask?" Fulenjo asked as he pushed himself upright into a cross-legged pose next to Chev. The pain had dulled enough that he could move again and the meditative pose was better for gathering the dark energies of the Force.

Chev considered this for a moment. In their brief time togethered Fulenjo had found that Chev was more than a hulking brute, but also rather intelligent and philosophical. "No, I guess not," Chev stated. "Though, I guess I wouldn't know unless one took his mask off in front of me."

"In all my time as an apprentice assassin I never saw another without their mask, unless they had just arrived. I didn't even know the names of several of the other apprentices and even some of the masters," Fulenjo added.

"Seems like a strange way to learn."

"It wasn't so bad," Fulenjo said. "A little lonely at times and forget about getting a girls comm code…"

Chev cracked a smile at the joke and was quite for a few more minutes before asking his next question. "So, you are capable of leeching off of people's life energies then?"

"Yes," Fulenjo admitted.

"Do you use this technique when dueling against me?"

"No," Fulenjo replied. "The technique requires a great deal of focus and at best you can only level the playing field between yourself and your opponent for a brief period of time. So much of the skulking about is out of necessity. An assassin will spend that time using the technique to make himself the equal to the opponent he faces. Then he will strike suddenly. With everything else being equal it is only that element of surprise that often leads to success for an assassin. Once in combat, the focus for maintaining the "leeching" effect is quickly lost. The longest I've been able to maintain it was a minute, but usually the effect is gone in half that. When engaged in a protracted duel it is of no use."

"Oh," was all Chev said.

"It has other short-comings as well," Fulenjo added.

"Such as?" Chev proded.

"It's almost completely ineffective against non-Force users. Also, it is extremely difficult and sometimes impossible to leech off of more than one target at a time. So, if you're facing a group of any sort you are in trouble unless you have an equal number of assassins."

"So, how did you end up in the company of Mandalorians?" Chev asked, clearly emboldened by Fulenjo's openness.

The bitter memories rose into Fulenjo's consciousness and he climbed to his feet despite the lingering pain. "It was my final test as an assassin…" he couldn't say more. Just admitting that much caused his heart to ache.

Fulenjo left Chev sitting there with a confused expression.

Chev caught up with Fulenjo the next day even though Fulenjo was trying to duck out of the academy for the morning run without his roommate. "Up early, aren't you?" Chev asked clearly trying to force good humor on Fulenjo. Fulenjo didn't reply as the two stepped out into the cool air of Malachor V's surface. Though it was cool, both of them wore only shorts and tank tops with their lightsabers tucked into a special bandoleer that Chev had designed so the handles wouldn't bang around while running.

Fulenjo skipped warming up and took off at a fast clip, leaving Chev behind for a few moments before the larger man could catch up. Fulenjo didn't want to be around Chev. He was afraid Chev would ask about his days with the Mandalorians again. As much as Fulenjo needed to vent about his experiences, Chev was a Sith just like him, anything revealed to the other could come back to haunt them. Already, Fulenjo had shared much about his time as an assassin that he probably shouldn't have.

For a long while the two men ran together, legs and arms pumping and their breathing heavy in the thin atmosphere. They covered a couple of kilometers of the harsh terrain before they took a wrong turn in canyon that dead ended. They both ground to a halt. Still irritated at Chev and at himself Fulenjo just stood staring at the rock face before them while Chev slouched over, hands on his knees as he sucked in air.

After a moment Chev spoke. "Running from you past, Jo?"

Fulenjo turned to look at him, Chev was staring slightly up at him as the sweat dripped down his face. Fulenjo didn't say anything as the memories of his time as a Mandalorian continued to assail him.

"You can't escape it," Chev said finally standing upright and stretching his back. "You have to accept that its part of who you are. If you continue to dwell on it you'll continue to be at the mercy of your emotions. I know you try to keep your emotions in check. But sometimes you just have to let them out or they'll eat you alive and you'll be worthless as a Sith."

Fulenjo just continued to stare at Chev blankly, recognizing the truth in the words but not quite able to accept them.

"What is it you're running from?" Chev asked bluntly.

Fulenjo didn't answer.

"What is it you're running from?" Chev demanded this time.

"My sins," Fulenjo answered softly after a moment. With the admission he was no longer able to look Chev in the eye and he turned back to staring dumbly at the rock wall in front of him.

"We all have sins," Chev said. "I've killed, you've killed. We kill out of passion and out of cold blood. It's who we are. We take what we want because we're Sith. We step on others. It happens. You've been with the Sith for a long time, you know this."

"Sins against others are one thing," Fulenjo said snappishly. "What about sins against ourselves?

Chev considered Fulenjo and his words for several moments. "What happened, Jo?"

"I fell in love," Fulenjo said. "When I knew I shouldn't and it ended… _badly_." That was the understatement of the century, but Chev didn't need details and Fulenjo wasn;t inclined to give them.

Chev wiped the sweat from his face with one hand. "I've experienced a lot of things, Jo. But love has never been one of them. I guess I should consider myself lucky, huh?"

Fulenjo recognized the attempt at humor, but his pain required him to keep a stony expression. "Very," he agreed.

Chev sighed. "Look, Jo, you're the closest thing I've got to a friend here. The closest thing to a friend I've had since joining the Sith. I may not know anything about love, but I know about attachment. I left five brothers behind when I left the Republic to follow Revan and Malak. I had to kill one of them on the battlefield. I didn't strike him down, or anything so epic. But my battalion engaged his battalion. I gave the orders, knowing it was his battalion, and that I was always the better commander. My troops overran their position with a flanking maneuver; I eventually found his body and buried it after we'd claimed victory. It hurt, but its part of the path I followed to get to where I am. It still pains me, but I don't suffer the burden of the memory. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Fulenjo did and he opened his mouth to say so but all that came out was a half-choked sob as the memories came to him again. The first time he'd been brought before Mandalore. The first time he'd attacked the man and how Mandalore had spared him and then taken him on as a protégé. The time he'd slipped poison into Mandalore's drink. The realization that it would take years for the poison to work. All that he'd learned from the man about leading others on and off the battlefield. His time as one of Mandalore's Rally Masters. The friends he'd had. The woman he'd loved. Finally Mandalore dying in his arms and Fulenjo's guilty admission of poison. The forgiveness of Mandalore, but the secret was out and Fulenjo was attacked. The loss of his friends and his lover. The love he still felt for her, for them, for the culture he'd become a part of. Then the loss of it all.

Chev made no move, just standing and watching Fulenjo as the inner battle was played out. Fulenjo couldn't run from his memories any more. He didn't battle to keep them at bay. Instead he let them come and soon the tears were mixing with the sweat on his face. He cried silently as Chev watched.

Finally the memories ran their course and e tears dried up. "Are you ready to return?" Chev asked, sensing the end.

Fulenjo nodded. "Lets go."

Darth Sion, the second master of the academy that Fulenjo knew of, began taking direct control of Chev's training a few days later. Chev was torn from his normal routine and was soon battling against Sion a few days a week. However, as much as the interest Sion took in him meant that the man was advancing, Chev began to voice frustrations that the masters hadn't provided him with a final test so that he could prove his mastery. Confiding to Fulenjo, as the two had clearly stamped out something of a friendship by now.

Sensing Darth Traya's tendency towards deception, Fulenjo began to suspect that the old woman had a plan in mind for both of them. Something he wouldn't like. As Fulenjo advanced he began holding back during his training. Occasionally prolonging an engagement he could otherwise have ended swiftly or throwing a match altogether. One day after throwing a match against one of the instructors while Darth Traya was watching he sensed her disappointment in him. He kept his emotions veiled when he felt this. Traya, master of deception, had been deceived herself and he'd been the one to do it. After she was long gone he allowed himself a bit of pride.

Two weeks later Darth Sion called Fulenjo and Chev into the dueling room, Darth Traya was mysteriously absent. "You are both here for your final test," Sion said. Fulenjo had heard him speak before but the deep, guttural voice was always a shock. The man sounded like death. Scarred, burned, and broken, it was amazing the man's body was still holding together. But the Dark Side was strong in him and kept his body upright, when it should have fallen long ago.

"Both of us?" Chev asked, a little incredulously. "There's no way Fulenjo's ready." He turned to Fulenjo, and offered an apologetic shrug, "No offense. But you're not."

"I'm ready if you say so, Master," Fulenjo said to Darth Sion, but I would have to agree with Chev. He's had a great deal more training than I have."

"Then I am here to watch an execution, not a duel," Sion said as he sank into a cross-legged position on the floor.

"We are to duel then," Chev asked.

"To the death," Sion said.

Chev turned to face Fulenjo, pulling out his blade and switching it from training to lethal. "It's been good knowing you, Jo. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but this is what I've trained for." He took a two handed grip on the blade and prepared to do battle. Fulenjo could sense the shift in the mind as he switched from one mental state to another. Tapping into his bipolar disorder, using what others would have viewed as a weakness and turning it into a strength that had propelled him to the top of the class. But the new mental state was not without flaws.

Fulenjo whipped his own blade out one handed with his opening stance slightly askew of facing Chev straight on and the tip of his blade pointed towards Chev's feet. He called up uncertainty and fear and let them show on his face, just barely but Chev still took notice. Truthfully he wasn't certain he could defeat Chev, but he did have a number of surprises in store for the bigger man. After all, Fulenjo wasn't just a Sith Marauder, he was also a Sith Assassin and a Mandalorian. His box of tools was much more varied than Chev.

Chev moved first with a high strike. Fulenjo blocked a little slowly and retreating a step as he did so. He barely deflected the blade to one side. Chev attacked again, his swings coming in swift and from all directions. Fulenjo attempted a meek counter-attack and Chev Force-leaped up and over him, landing behind him and striking out. Fulenjo rolled out of the way.

Fulenjo felt Chev's anger growing as the man called upon his rage to fuel his bloodlust. Chev's attacks became more vicious and several times he nearly skewered Fulenjo. But as Chev let his rage funnel his attack Fulenjo knew that the same rage was also blinding him to the fact that Fulenjo's defenses were increasing in their efficiency and effectiveness, not decreasing as an opponent who was wearing down should have been. Distantly he could sense Sion's pleasant surprise. Clearly he had expected a swift end.

Chev's blade crashed down again into Fulenjo's and Fulenjo rotated over the top of it with his own, entwining the blade with a twirling motion of his own. Straining Chev's grip on the blade he sent a burst of telekinetic energy at the weapon. However, his own grip had loosened and Chev sent a similar burst at his weapon. The blades flew apart, automatically turning off as their hilts scattered across the room. Without thinking Chev struck Fulenjo with pure rage. The force of the big man's blow on his cheek collapsed Fulenjo to his knees. The blow had been pure instinct and anger, without the forethought that would allow Chev a quick follow-up.

By the time Chev cocked his other fist back Fulenjo was already beginning to move. The blow that would have shattered Fulenjo's nose never landed as he rolled backwards and up to his feet. Chev lashed out with his feet in a series of choppy, short kicks meant to disable an enemy long enough for more devastating blows to land. Fulenjo back-stepped once and then lashed out with his own feet, catching Chev's feet with his own and halting the man's advance.

A single thought rose in Fulenjo's mind. One that the Mandalorian's had trained him to utilize in battle. One word encapsulated what had to happen in this fight. One of them had to die but that didn't necessarily mean that both of them wouldn't. Fulenjo just had to make sure the Chev's life was at least part of the deal. One word concentrated his efforts, focused him, and let him overcome and incorporate the pain into his fight.

One word.

_End_…

His own rage boiled up, not the carefully controlled anger the Sith warped. But the pure, unadulterated rage that Chev was already tapping into. But Chev couldn't compete with Fulenjo now. Chev's definition of winning was too complicated. Chev wanted to live _and_ for Fulenjo to die. It was the basic survival instinct Chev's master had recognized years ago. It was the mentality of a beast, albiet a trained one.

Fulenjo's rage was even more raw. His instinct was even less complicated. He wanted only one thing: Chev to die.

_End_.

Chev would have eventually won a lightsaber duel, which is why Fulenjo was willing to sacrifice his own blade in order to disarm his roommate… his friend. Unarmed, Fulenjo had more experience and training. Unarmed it became even less complicated. To Fulenjo it was even simpler. Chev wanted to block attacks to preserve his life. As the rage boiled his blood Fulenjo was no longer concerned by this. He wanted only to attack, to destroy, to kill.

_End!_

Fulenjo took a kick to the ribs but delivered a hook to Chev's jaw at the same time. He didn't need the breath so he didn't have to suck in air. As he collapsed over the leg he brought his elbow down, hard on the thigh. It did little damage but it would hurt in a numbing way, slowing Chev down. Chev had his hands up in a guard as he stepped away to favor his leg, until he could assess his ability to put weight on it. Fulenjo stood tall, breathing as if his ribs weren't cracked. He unleashed a devastating rain of blows upon the arms Chev had up to guard and as Chev put out jabs to Fulenjo's face and torso Fulenjo's more powerful blows continued to hammer down, breaking through the gaps in coverage and battering into Chev's skull and body ten times more powerfully then Chev was striking him. He was all attack and he could feel the blood running freely from his nose and split lips. It didn't matter.

_END!_

Another of Fulenjo's blows sent Chev staggering, his arms flailing. Fulenjo was still on him, but given a little distance he struck with his foot to the back of Chev's knee; taking the big man completely off his feet. Chev hit the floor on his knees and Fulenjo followed up with a powerful punch to the man's now unguarded face that spun the big man slightly towards the ground in a daze, but still he managed to keep from falling completely by getting his hands under him.

_END!_

Fulenjo kicked the man in the ribs with all the power that the Dark Side fed him and the man spun up into the air. With a speed driven by the Force Fulenjo stepped in as the man was in the air and struck him in the gut with a super-human punch. Chev went crashing into the rock wall, his head cracking back hard against it. Fulenjo was on top of him again, catching the man's head and not letting him sink to the floor. He hammered Chev's head into the wall and heard a sickly crunch. So angry he did it again. And Again. And Again.

_**END!**_

Mercilessly he hammered the man's life from him. Again he smashed what was left of Chev's skull into the wall. He felt the regret in the echoes of Chev's Force presence and saw the loss in his eyes. Not just the loss of life, but the loss of dreams and a friendship. A friendship that he would have lost regardless. Finally realization and acceptance right before his presence in the Force flickered out. Again and again Fulenjo continued to smash the lifeless skull against the wall; his rage driving him to desecrate the corpse of a man he had almost considered a friend.

_end._

Letting the rage go as he let Chev's body slip to the floor, Fulenjo found himself staring at the mess on the wall. Blood, bone fragments, and brain matter stared back at him from the crumbling masonry. He was breathing heavily now, sucking in the air that had been robbed from him moment's before in gulps that radiated agony from his broken ribs.

He stood there, evaluating himself, trying to figure out if he would die as well. Besides his broken ribs; his nose and one of his cheekbones were broken. Three fingers were broken on his left hand and one on his right. He was covered in bruises and minor cuts and a few burns from close calls with Chev's lightsaber. The wounds were survivable and Fulenjo had been hurt worse. He could still stand, still walk, still fight if need be.

"I did not expect you to survive," Darth Sion's guttural voice came from behind him. "The final test for any Marauder has always been to kill the one he has the greatest attachment to. For Chev that was you. For you… I sense you killed that person long before today."

Fulenjo turned slowly, his pain hindering him and stared unblinkingly at Darth Sion. Could the man possibly know everything Fulenjo had gone through? Was there anything that plagued the Sith Lord like it plagued Fulenjo?

"We have need of trained Marauders and Assassins…" Sion began.

Fulenjo shook his head, banishing his thoughts of loss. The loss of Chev… the loss before. "No, that's not the deal," he said sharply.

"Your deal with Traya?"

Fulenjo nodded.

"Traya isn't with us anymore," Sion said coldly. "Your deal left with her."

"I will train as a Sith Lord," Fulenjo said forcefully, beginning to draw the Dark Side to himself again.

Sion considered him for a moment though he was as blind as Darth Traya had been. "I have need of Sith Assassins. Darth Nihilus needs Marauders and Lords. Go to him. You can learn the ways of a Sith Lord from him and the Lords he travels with," he paused for a moment, then added a warning, "He will be disappointed that I am not sending him Chev."

**Chapter Eight**

_The problem with the Sith is that without a strong, charismatic, and unifying leader the ambition they cultivate runs unchecked. Following the destruction of the Star Forge we saw the remaining elements of the Sith Fleet and Army degenerate into clusters of warring nations. The Republic didn't have to lift a finger to finish off the Sith. They did it to themselves. Which left us able to concentrate on other projects. Like rebuilding worlds. Like Telos…_

_Quote from Admiral Carth Onasi_

_Featured in a documentary on Revan Two Years after the defeat of Darth Malak_

Fulenjo took his Mandalorian starfighter into orbit where Darth Nihilus was gathering a Sith fleet, but not before spending some time with the holocron of Simus and finishing his lanvarok and studying more of the techniques used by old Sith Lords. Nihilus, the third master of the academy that Simus had spoken to Fulenjo about so long ago now ruled the Sith, something Darth Traya had nominally done as the head of academy Triumvirate. Nihilus had never been at the academy while Fulenjo was studying there. Instead, the third of the members of the Triumvirate had traveled between the stars, sewing together the ripped fabric of the Sith.

When Nihilus called, others answered. The Sith Lord had patched together a moderate fleet of Interdictor-class Cruisers, the two-pronged warships that had made up the bulk of Revan's war machine. And when other Sith had refused his call he did more than destroy them. He consumed them, devouring their Force presences, feeding off the anguish of their deaths. This was the greatest of Nihilus' powers, the vampiric way in which he grew stronger by slaying others and the one that Fulenjo most wanted to learn.

If people did not join his fleet than they became part of the Sith Lord. However, the ships under Nihilus' command did not all come from the rest of the Sith. His flagship, the _Ravager_ was a monstrous Centurion-class battlecruiser, one of the flagships that had been present at the Battle of Malachor and considered destroyed in the detonation of the Mass Shadow Generator. Nihilus used his power to rip it from the planet's mass shadows and now used it for a command ship, though several decks were still exposed to the vacuum of space.

Landing the Davaab fighter in the hangar bay and wearing the simple Sith robes he'd been given when graduating from the Korriban Academy he was escorted to the bridge of the _Ravager_ by two Sith troopers. The troopers were obviously the vetrans of many engagements; the normally reflective metallic armor was dulled and scraped in places. Neither spoke to him as they walked, just gesturing with hand movements which way they were headed.

Eventually they reached the bridge and his escort peeled away. Alone Fulenjo Redjetta strode onto the bridge, lit red by the lights normally reserved as emergency lighting. He stepped up the three steps onto the command walkway that ran between the two crewpits where sickly looking humans worked diligently at various stations. Beyond the crew pits ran a row of transparisteel windows.

What astonished him about the bridge was that at the end, beyond where Darth Nihilus stood tall the front had been blown away and the ship was exposed to vacuum like other portions of the ship. There was no magnetic containment field, tricking observers into believing it was magic, the bridge really was open to space. Only the force of Nihilus will could possibly be keeping the oxygen in.

Fulenjo strode up to Nihilus who turned to look upon him through the black holes in his white death mask. Stretching out with the Force Fulenjo could only feel emptiness and hunger in the man and suddenly he understood why Nihilus consumed. He consumed because if he didn't he would perish. Nihilus may have been magnificently strong with the Dark Side, but he was a slave to it.

Fulenjo offered a half bow, stretching out with the Dark side to feel how Nihilus did what he did. "My lord, Darth Sion has sent me."

The words the man spoke made no sense to his ears but their meaning hammered into his head. _I was expecting another_.

"I defeated Chev Ulgo," he said simply.

The voice in his head matched the meaning of the unknown words. _You are the one Traya promised to teach everything to._

"I am," Fulenjo confirmed. "I mastered the ways of the Sith Assassin and the Sith Maurauder. I am here to learn to be a Sith Lord."

The voice spoke harshly between his ears. _One cannot learn to be a Sith Lord. One simply is, or isn't_.

Opening his mouth to protest that he had seen Sith lords wield powers he had not been taught by Korriban or Malachor instructors, Fulenjo was cut off by the voice again.

_You can learn the powers that one wields. I will even teach you how to consume through the Force to enrich yourself. But this won't make you a Sith Lord. Go to the _Event Horizon_ the master of the ship long ago mastered the powers of the Sith. He will teach you._

"He is a full Sith Lord?"

_No!_ Nihilus voice came harshly. _None can claim that title without me taking it from them. Any you meet that don't claim the Darth title know that I can take it from them. Without the title they are not true Lords of the Sith_.

Fulenjo considered for a moment and then formed a thought of his own and hammered it back at Darth Nihilus _Then I will return when I have learned all I can and can claim to be a Darth_.

He could sense the Dark Lord's amusement and pleasure but Nihilus said nothing more to him and Fulenjo was escorted back to his fighter by the same two Sith troopers.

The _Event Horizon_ was one of the Interdictor-class Cruisers in Nihilus' fleet. The ship was weathered from battle but maintained in pristine condition. Repairs done to the ship were carried out with the utmost care for the vessel and if there was any significant battle damage it was hidden well. Fulenjo had only been on one of the ships once before and that had been a ship that had come to the Tapani sector for recruits right at the outbreak of the war.

The Sith master aboard the _Horizon_ was a short, balding man who looked more like an accountant than a terrifying Sith Lord. He peered out at the world from beneath bushy eyebrows and seemed to rub his hands together mischievously when he was talking about how great he was. Despite his diminutive stature and unremarkable appearance he was strong in the Force and he dominated over everyone on the ship; killing subordinates for minor mistakes and perceived threats. Grekor Uln wasn't insane, but the paranoia lurking beneath the surface would surely drive him there eventually.

"So you're the bucket-head?" Grekor said when Fulenjo had walked into his meditation chamber for the first time. The large, rough chamber was ringed with natural stone pillars and lighting was kept to a minimum of natural torches. Fulenjo wondered about the intelligence of keeping natural flames going unchecked aboard a space ship, but it wasn't his decision and the flames weren't terrible threatening. Grekor sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor facing the entrance.

"I was," Fulenjo replied through clenched teeth. The term "bucket-head" was a slightly derogatory term for Mandalorians.

"Did you serve with the savages long?" Grekor asked. Clearly he was trying to provoke Fulenjo.

Fulenjo shook his head, as he stood in the doorway of the room. "Just a year; until my mission was completed."

"Be grateful you didn't have to stay with those beasts any longer," Grekor said. "I fought against them during the Mandalorian Wars. They were total barbarians. They killed without mercy. We put them down like the animals they were. I killed them by the hundreds."

Anger was broiling in Fulenjo but he kept it in check. Grekor was either the most callous or the stupidest person he'd met. Fulenjo said nothing so Grekor continued.

"I remember this one time, we captured this Mandalorian warrior woman," Grekor recalled, his eyes unfocusing. "Stripped her of her bucket and the rest of her armor. Beneath her armor she was an amazing beast. Finely toned muscle, long legs, and a lot of spirit. I enjoyed crushing that spirit. Treating her as if she were nothing, beating her, torturing her. Me and the boys all enjoyed her. Had to keep her tied up. Gagged too! Learned that out the hard way when she bit the nose of one of my boys. But in the end we broke her. Just like you break any wild beast. We kept her as a slave for two more years until she killed herself. Sad, really, just when she'd started to behave and make herself useful."

Choking down his anger Fulenjo by remembering his assignment with the Mandalorians had _only_ been an assignment. They weren't his people, no matter what they'd told him. Swallowing his initial words he finally spoke something a bit more sensible. "I was sent to you to learn to be a Sith Lord," Fulenjo said.

"And you will be," Grekor said as he stood up. "But tell me, what then?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question…" Fulenjo stalled.

"It's a simple question. What do you hope to accomplish when you become a Sith Lord?"

"I want power. I want to lead and to conquer," Fulenjo said.

"Will you kill Lord Nihilus to get it?" Grekor asked.

"If I must," Fulenjo replied.

"Of course you must!" Grekor snapped. "How else could you possibly rule everyone? Will you kill me?"

_I would love to,_ Fulenjo thought. "Are you standing in my path?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Grekor countered.

"Then yes, I would kill you," Fulenjo said.

"Wrong!" Grekor yelled, "You would try!"

Grekor's hands came up quickly, too quickly for Fulenjo to respond, and from the fingertips lightning shot out and hammered into Fulenjo with such power that he was thrown into the door right behind him. His head snapped back and cracked against the metal bulkhead and he let out a cry. Fulenjo felt like screaming but kept it inside as all his nerves fired and muscles spasm. Grekor let up with the lightning and Fulenjo let himself slide to the floor, his muscles still clenching involuntarily.

"You see how strong I am?" Grekor asked, taking a few steps towards him. "I am a Lord of the Sith. You have a great many skills, Fulenjo Redjetta, but you see now that you are nothing compared to me!"

Fulenjo nodded weakly. "I see," he mumbled.

"Good," Grekor said. "Now go get yourself sorted out. We will continue your lessons tomorrow." Grekor returned to the middle of the room and sank back into his meditative pose, his eyes were focused on Fulenjo though.

Managing to pull himself upright, while heavily utilizing the door against which he was propped, Fulenjo stood and faced Grekor. "You are very strong, Master."

"I know," Grekor said.

"Unfortunately for you, I am stronger," Fulenjo said raising his own hands. Grekor managed to get his hands up when Fulenjo's own lightning erupted from his fingertips.

The lightning hit the shield Grekor was projecting with the Force and crackled across the surface. Fulenjo let his efforts slacken a bit and Grekor clambered to his feet while still holding back the lightning. "You are weak, my apprentice," he said. "You're power is nothing compared to mine."

Fulenjo smiled and called upon his anger as he ramped up the power of the lightning. The lightning crackled into Grekor's shield and around it, the bolts finally arcing through a hole in the older man's defenses and running down one arm. Shock washed over Grekor's features as his arm twitched against his will. He lost his focus and the shield collapsed. Glee at breaking through the man's defenses washed through Fulenjo. Happiness could be a powerful motivator too, he combined it with his anger and the bolts that smashed into Grekor were even more powerful that those that had battered down his defenses.

Grekor pitched over backward but Fulenjo didn't relent. He continued to destroy the man as his body jerked uncontrollably on the floor. Fulenjo felt the man's life beginning to leave him and ceased his assault. He reached out to that feeling, tapping into it, unsure if he doing this just right. Stepping up to Grekor he looked down on the man. Grekor's uniform was smoking and charred in many places. Grekor stared up at him dumbfounded. "How…?"

"There is more than one path to knowledge," Fulenjo said, not willing to reveal the holocron of Simus to anyone. He had studied the holocron extensively and taught himself a number of powers reserved for Sith lords before ever arriving at Malachor for the first time and had studied techniques taught by Simus in moments of quiet. All along he had kept it to himself, only practicing when he was far from other Force-users. Finally he had felt like he'd mastered them. This had been his first test of his abilities.

"Why?" Grekor's life was fading fast as his twitches slowed and his eyes became distant.

"You stood in my way and you insulted me," Fulenjo replied. "If you hadn't insulted me I would have killed you eventually, but you could have stood there longer."

Reaching out with the Dark Side Fulenjo tapped into the man's life essence as it left his body. He sapped the energy, imagining what Darth Nihilus did. The man's power flowed into him along with his thoughts. He felt the pain that Grekor had felt, the anger at the betrayal, the shame at being bested by a student. But with it also came some knowledge, how Grekor had used the Force. How he shaped it to his will. A great deal of knowledge that Fulenjo would have had to study for years as Grekor's apprentice before he would have learned.

The power it gave him made him feel good and knew instantly why Darth Nihilus practiced this perverted form of cannibalism. It was one thing as a Sith Assassin to tap into an enemy's life Force and use it to make oneself stronger. The concept of tapping into their death was both similar and yet completely different. With death it wasn't a temporary boost, it was the complete absorption of another's soul. The power that came with it was intoxicating.

Then the memories hit. Memories of all the horrible things Grekor had done and the feelings of regret that went with them. Grekor ordering the bombardment of a village suspected of hiding Mandalorian scouts. The divorce Grekor had gone through that left him feeling empty inside. Shortly after that the capture of the Mandalorain woman that had reminded him so much of his ex-wife. Then the ways in which he had desecrated her. A lifetime of memories highlighted by more tragedy and pain than by happiness. Finally at the end a bit of power to control the variables that had so often hurt Grekor, only to be snatched away from him.

Dropping to his knees next to Grekor's corpse Fulenjo vomited. The sickness he felt was unexplainable. A perfect paradox: at the same time he felt stronger than ever before, but also like he was drowning in another's pain and he was helpless to do anything. He stayed there, breathing deeply as the contradictory emotions swirled through him.

Finally he was able to shut out the memories that had washed over him, however some of the power went with it. Still, he felt immensely strong. He got his feet and left the chamber, tasking a droid to clean up that he found outside the cahmber. He made his way to the ship's bridge where we was met by the captain.

"My Lord," the thick man greeted him immediately, after peeling away from whatever task he'd been working on. "Will Lord Uln be joining us?" he asked a bit nervously. Fulenjo searched the memories of Grekor Uln that he had inherited; looking for how Grekor had interacted with the captain and other officer's of the ship. When he had his answer he decided to go in completely the opposite direction.

"What's your name, Captain?" Fulenjo asked, offering his hand.

The captain looked at Fulenjo's hand as if it were a poisonous reptile. Hesitantly, he grasped it. "Captain Remus Slayke, at your service."

"It is good to meet you, Captain," Fulenjo said. "And to answer your question, no. Master Uln will not be joining us as I have killed him."

Remus swallowed hard, though it was barely visible beneath his thick brown beard.

"Captain, I have a great deal of experience in ground confrontations and from behind the controls of starfighter. However, I am not a starship commander. As I have taken charge of this vessel I require a competent commander. Is that you?"

The man nodded sharply, "It is My Lord."

Probing him with the Force Fulenjo could tell that the man believed himself capable and that he had a lot of experience behind him. "Good to hear, Captain," Fulenjo said. "Now, I appreciate you introducing yourself, but I noticed you were busy when I entered and I won't keep you. If you could just have one of your crew set me up with a call to Lord Nihilus on the _Ravager_."

"Uh," Captain Slayke was clearly caught off-guard but he recovered quickly, "Of course sir." He led Fulenjo to the communications officer in one of the crew pits and issued instructions.

Fulenjo was left standing at the sitting officer's shoulder as Captain Slayke went back to his previous task. Fulenjo had to wait a moment before the image of Darth Nihilus materialized in the air before him.

Nihilus spoke in the half-words and even over the distance the meaning of the words wriggled into Fulenjo's mind. _You have met with your new master?_

Fulenjo inclined his head politely at Nihlus' image. "I have."

_You find this a suitable apprenticeship? He can teach you a great many things…_

"No," Fulenjo replied.

_No? You would prefer another?_

"No," Fulenjo said. "I killed Grekor Uln. I am taking command of his ship."

_You presume that I will find this acceptable_, Nihlus said.

"If you think you can stop me, you are welcome to try," Fulenjo challenged the man unflinchingly. In that moment a thought came to him and he proclaimed to the other man, "I am Darth _Adenn_!" The word _Adenn_ was Mandalorian for merciless, a title that he felt represented how he had dealt with Chev and with Grekor.

Nihilus didn't speak for several long moments, but his dark humor was clear in the Force. The two just stared at each other for a while before Darth Nihilus finally spoke. _So be it, Darth_ Adenn. _The Mandalorian Sith..._

**Chapter Nine**

_The Sith are everywhere and yet they are nowhere. These aren't Revan and Malak's Sith, who used brute force and conquest to achieve their goals. At least with them you could identify their worlds and bases. These new Sith don't seem determined to conquer the galaxy. They are bent on death and destruction alone. It's a war unlike any we've ever faced. Jedi are disappearing. Are they dead? Have they abandoned the order? We don't know; it's as if they are simply swallowed by a black hole. To make matters worse it seems to be progressing. What started as a random Jedi going missing has gone to pairs disappearing. Now, just the other day a Jedi negotiating team, five Jedi in all, has gone missing. Masters Tokare and Atris are trying to assemble a Jedi Conclave on Katarr to see if we can divine the source of these attacks. I'm not sure such a gathering of Jedi is the wisest of ideas…_

_Master Vrook Lamar_

_Relating his fears to fellow Master Zez-kai Ell_

Captain Slake stood next to Darth Adenn, formerly Fulenjo Redjetta, on the bridge of the _Event Horizon_, before the viewports that looked out on space. In front of them a small transport was attempting to escape from underneath their guns. To further compound problems for the freighter a half squadron of starfighters had been dispatched to cripple the transport. For five months now, the two had worked side-by-side in tracking down Jedi and attacking Republic targets.

In that time Captain Slayke had tutored Adenn in capital ship combat and tactics. During his time with the Mandalorians, under a different name, Adenn had become a capable starfighter commander, as well as an excellent battlefield tactician, but utilizing capital ships and large-scale formations was mostly new to him. He'd been tutored briefly during his time at the Korriban Academy in a variety of tactics but it had all been academic with absolutely no hands-on experience involved. To top it off, other pursuits had occupied his energies and he hadn't paid too much attention to the studies at that time. Now, he was recognizing the error of his short-sightedness and correcting it.

While not a brilliant leader, Captain Slayke had proven that he was both a capable commander and a willing tutor. In the minor skirmishes that they'd been involved in he continually emerged victorious and made certain that he told Adenn what tactics he was using and why. The older man seemed to delight in having a willing pupil, even though Adenn was technically the senior officer.

When not engaged in combat Remus Slayke kept his men ready for anything by continually training and drilling them. Slayke knew most of his officers by name and many of the enlisted men as well. He made sure his men were supported so that when he called upon them he knew they would be able and willing to serve.

Leaving behind the name of Fulenjo Redjetta, Darth Adenn copied the qualities he saw in Captain Slayke and made sure he associated with all the crew members. Learning their names, as well as their strengths and weaknesses as members of the crew. It wasn't hard for him to get to know them. He'd been a social person by nature before coming to Malachor and only when he was at the academy had he been forced to keep to himself. Then he'd been interested in socializing for entertainment. Now, he did it to better understand the capabilities of those serving him. It was a necessity now.

A brief flare up from one of the freighter's engines was quickly extinguished in the vacuum of space and Adenn knew that the end of the brief battle was at hand. Assuming a new name hadn't been easy for Fulenjo and for the first few weeks he had missed more than one person speaking his name. But he was already used to subordinates referring to him as lord or sir, so he'd just set that up as his mental cue. Eventually, he had grown accustomed to the name.

"Lord Adenn, Captain Slayke," called the communications officer from a crew pit. "The vessel has signaled their surrender."

Adenn turned to acknowledge the officer. "Tell them to expect boarders from a shuttle. Once the ship is secured we'll bring it aboard." Their first boarding operation months ago Adenn had expected to bring the ship aboard and then bring the ship's troops to bear. Slayke had cautioned that he'd once seen a vessel overload its engines when pulled aboard and the crew facing certain execution. It had destroyed the larger ship. So they always performed their boarding operations in this manner now.

"Yes sir."

Adenn then spoke to Slayke. "Tell the pilots I think they did an excellent job. Have the Acolytes join the boarding operation just in case the Jedi put up a fight."

"Yes sir," Slayke said. Though this was standard procedure for them now whenever boarding Jedi craft, Slayke showed no sign that the redundancy was irritating him.

Slayke and the crew worked quickly. Within moments the shuttle had launched and within fifteen minutes it had docked with the damaged freighter and was undoubtedly disgorging troops. Adenn always hated this part, snippets of conversation could be caught over the comm frequencies, but most of the time they were useless when trying find out what was happening. Adenn had come to trust his troops; if they needed help they would call for it.

The communications officer spoke up again. "Sir, the team on board says the Jedi has agreed to surrender without a fight so long as the rest of the crew is set free.

Adenn thought about it for a second. "I will interview all of them and if I determine that they are not Force-sensitives then they will be released."

"Yes sir," the communication officer relayed the directions. It was another moment before the man confirmed that the Jedi had surrendered.

"Bring the ship on board and take the Jedi immediately to the interrogation room," Adenn instructed Captain Slayke. "The rest can stay under guard at the ship unless I determine differently."

"You don't want to speak to them all, sir?" Slayke asked.

"Let's see what the Jedi gives us first," Adenn stated. While most Sith would have gotten angry at a subordiante for questioning orders, Adenn had come to allow it since Slayke thought about things differently than he did. It allowed for more possibilities to be explored. Adenn turned to leave, "Captain Slayke, you have the bridge. You know where I will be but please don't disturb me unless absolutely necessary."

"Yes, sir."

Adenn made his way off the bridge and to the turbolifts. The first couple of days he'd been aboard a pair of Sith troopers had accompanied him everywhere. He'd quickly dismissed them, not fearing attacks from within as Grekor Uln obviously had. At first he'd had to occasionally ask someone to escort him to a part of the ship he was unfamiliar with but now he was comfortable enough to walk the hallways unescorted, freeing up men to perform actual work, or take much needed rest.

A short ride on the turbolift dropped him all the way from the bridge down to the detention level. He was pleased to see that the prisoner had already been escorted into the interrogation room. The men under him and Captain Slayke were incredibly efficient. Adenn came up behind one of the Sith troopers, recognizing from his presence that it was Lieutenant Gasbee. Gasbee was covnersing with the two guards that were stationed to either side of the door.

Adenn laid a hand on the man's shoulder and the visored face quickly spun to him, "Sir, we have the prisoner strapped in already. Two of my men are still in there with her…"

"Good work, Lieutenant," Adenn said. "I'm glad we were able to resolve this without any bloodshed." Adenn didn't really care if his men had slaughtered the people on the frieghter. He did find himself caring about the men who served him, though. They were good at what they did and it would be hard to replace them.

"Thank you, sir," Gasbee replied. He moved to get out of the way and added, "Have fun with this one, sir. She's quite a looker."

Adenn acknowledged the comment with a nod and moved into the room as one of the other soldiers triggered the door to open. Adenn could only see the long blonde hair from behind as the woman was restrained in a seated position. Moving around her and the table in front of her he got his first good look at her. She was in her mid-twenties, undeniably beautiful, but in a plain sort of way. She had green eyes and a few freckles. Something about her made Adenn's heart race.

It wasn't anything good. Adenn had seen and been with woman more beautiful; that wasn't it. The way she looked reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place it. But it wasn't just the way she looked it was also the strength she carried herself with. Everything about her screamed for Adenn to take out all his frustrations on her. Part of him wanted to torture and desecrate her for daring to defy him.

But the thing was she hadn't defied him. They had never met before and she was sitting here after surrendering.

Then Adenn placed her. Or rather who she reminded him of. But it wasn't his memory that had been jogged. The part of Grekor that he'd absorbed immediately noticed a similarity between this woman and his ex-wife. This girl looked a lot like what Grekor's wife had looked like when they'd first met all those years ago. She looked less like the Mandalorian woman that Grekor had tortured. That woman had been older and had resembled an older version of Grekor's wife.

The pause she gave him didn't go unnoticed by the girl. Her stoic demeanor crumbled under a wave of curiosity. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Adenn pulled his chair out and sat down. "I'm sorry, you just reminded me of someone."

"Torture and kill them to?" she asked bitterly.

"Yes," he said, still immersed in Grekor's surfacing memories. "I mean no," he corrected himself.

She arched an eyebrow in confusion.

"It's complicated," he admitted.

She eyed him for a moment. "I have to admit I was expecting someone much more sinister looking for a Sith Lord…"

"Oh?" Adenn prodded, allowing the conversation to flow. He'd always found it helpful to build a bit of relationship with people he wanted things from. "And what exactly were you expecting?"

"Maybe a guy with some wicked battle scars," she said. "Or someone hiding behind a mask much more scary than their actual face."

"I know people like that," Adenn said with a slight grin. "Short tempered and demanding. But that's not how I operate."

"And how do you operate?" she asked, following the lead he laid out.

"I try the easiest ways first, rather than resorting to extreme measures all the time," Adenn replied.

"And the easy ways are?" the woman asked.

"In this instance. I ask you questions and you answer them. If I find it all satisfactory I let the rest of your people go."

"And if you don't? Or if I refuse to answer your questions?"

"Scar Head, Mask Boy, and I are all Sith Lords. We all know ways to make you talk," Adenn said matter-of-factly.

"You can try torture, but it won't…" she began.

A short, harsh laugh burst from Adenn's mouth. "Torture? Torture would be a godsend. What I have in mind would be to consume your soul. With it will come your memories and I can sort through them myself."

"That sounds like the easiest path. Why not just do that?"

"You remember I said you reminded me of someone?" she nodded. "Well, its more like you prompted a memory I absorbed from another man."

"So he's the one that killed her?"

"Yes."

"But now his memories are yours?"

Adenn nodded. "Most of the time I don't notice him. But I carry around part of him inside me. Just as I will carry around a part of you."

"I think you're bluffing," she said.

Adenn didn't say anything for a moment as he looked at her. Grekor's impotent rage boiling up inside him. "What's your name?" he asked finally.

"Kendra," she replied. "Kendra Drix."

"Well, Kendra, that's one question down. Care to answer another?"

"Depends on the question."

"Where are the Jedi gathering?"

Kendra shook her head. "I don't know."

"I'll let your people go," Adenn promised.

Kendra continued to shake her head. "You can promise whatever you want. I still don't know."

"But you have heard rumors?" Adenn persisted.

Kendra shook her head.

Sadly Adenn pushed back from the table. "I hate to do this, Kendra," he said as he walked around the table. "I will kill your crew now, after I'm done with you."

"They're innocent!" she protested. "They didn't even know they were transporting a Jedi until you fired at us."

"That's not the point," Adenn stated, coming up behind her. He let Grekor's rage boil to the surface and he looped one arm beneath her chin. Locking his other arm behind her head he began to squeeze. She gasped and gurgled for air as he blocked the only passageway. Inside him, the part that was Grekor was delighting at the horrendous death.

Perhaps it was the proximity, or perhaps it just came easier with practice; but this time when he reached out to her life essence and began to pull it into himself it was much easier than it had been the first time. Instead of trying to drink in an ocean it was more like filling a glass of water. Her presence easily melted into him.

Again the power came. Kendra wasn't quite the powerful Force user that Grekor had been, but she was still strong enough in the Force to reach Knighthood. Absorbing her power didn't give him the adrenaline rush that Grekor had, but he felt like his awareness had been heightened and his muscles flexed with newfound strength.

The memories and feeling came again too. But, whereas Grekor's life had focused on negative memories, Kendra's was focused on positive. He felt her pride at being taken on by a master. He lived through her trials and triumphs as a padawan. Then their came her knighting ceremony and at that point she'd felt like she couldn't have been happier. Then Bror had entered the picture. A man, not a Jedi. Leading his people to rebuild after the devastation of the Mandalorian Wars. Her helping him and eventually the love that had grown between them. Love that had been shunned by the Jedi, but out on the rim of the galaxy there was no one to tell her not to. The child she'd bore to him. Then the call to return to Corsucant. Sadness at leaving Bror behind. But her pride at turning over her child to one of the Jedi's greatest teachers, intermixed with sadness at possibly never seeing her again. In the end, only a sliver of fear and guilt that marked Adenn's impact on her life.

Adenn fell to his knees with the overwhelming emotions, but he didn't vomit this time. He didn't even feel the need to. Instead, tears ran down his cheeks as the love and longing to see her child again filled him. He couldn't help but wonder what great things Kendra would have gone on to do. He wondered what role she could have played in the life of her child; wondered if she could have ever gone back out to the rim and rejoined Bror.

The door opened and Lieutenant Gasbee hurried to his side. "Sir, are you all right?" Adenn looked up and Gasbee recoiled a bit at seeing the tears on his face. "I'm sorry for intruding, sir. If you want to be alone I'll…"

"No, I'm okay, Lieutenant. It's always like this when you absorb the memories of another. The emotions are overwhelming."

"I…" Gasbee began but trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Would you help me up," Adenn said.

Gasbee offered a hand and hauled Adenn to his feet then stepped in to steady him when Adenn nearly stumbled back to the ground. "I can get you a medic, sir," Gasbee offered.

"No, Lieutenant. I feel better than ever. But, her memories were much more powerful than the other's I've absorbed," Adenn attempted to explain. "Just give me a minute.

The two men stood there a moment as Adenn took deep calming breaths. With each breath he was able to sort through the memories and emotions of Kendra. Finally, he'd regained himself enough to stand on his own. He also had a couple of locations for the possible Jedi conference.

Stepping away from Gasbee he addressed the man with authority again. "Execute the rest of the prisoners Lieutenant. We have what we need and the Jedi didn't hold up her end of the agreement. Then tell Captain Slayke to have a line ready for me to speak with Darth Nihilus. I have news."

"Yes sir!"

**Chapter Ten**

_We are our experiences._

_Vandar Tokare_

_Describing how Revan and Malak became Sith_

Kneeling in the dark sanctum he had usurped from Grekor Uln, Darth Adenn's eyes were closed as he sifted through the memories of Kendra Drix. The half-meditative, half-dream-like state caused his eyes to flutter behind closed lids. He'd requisitioned a T3 unit to record his meditation and the mutterings that escaped from his mouth.

When Adenn had absorbed Grekor he'd done his best to repress the painful memories that had come with the power. For several; months Adenn had kidded himself into believing that he'd discarded or suppressed the memories of Grekor Uln. That clearly hadn't been the case. Grekor had called out through him and demanded the gruesome death of Kendra Drix. The only good thing was now that he'd done it, the voice of Grekor had subsided.

Of course, there was the possibility that Grekor's voice had merely been replaced by that of Kendra Drix.

As Adenn knelt and sifted through the memories he touched a multitude of times on Kendra's daughter Sofie. The Jedi Order wasn't blind to the relationship and had permitted Kendra a few visits as well as sending her updated holograms of her now and again. However, Sofie had been just over one when turned over and the mother-daughter relationship had been severed by the Council. Whenever Kendra visited she wasn't allowed to treat Sofie as her daughter and Sofie seemed oblivious to the fact. It was heart-wrenching for Kendra every time.

In Kendra's recent memories he found traces of the rumors Kendra had overheard about a possible Jedi conference being called together. Ossus, Dantooine, Caamas, Phateem, Katarr, the list of possible locations went on and on. Each rumor Kendra had gleaned had only added to the list. The only thing they all had in common was that each planet had a connection to the Jedi and was believed to be a natural focal point of the Force.

That was at least something. But not something Adenn, or Nihilius, hadn't already guessed at. The Jedi weren't stupid. They would use whatever advantages they could, so long as it didn't violate their code.

Exhausting the possibility of nailing down a location, or even just a few locations, Adenn began to withdraw from the memories. Before halting completely, though, he decided to find out where Kendra had been headed. He summoned to his mind more recent memories.

Vandar Tokare, the short green alien with pointy ears whose species seem destined to lead the Jedi Order, came to mind. A quiet conversation warning about the dangers of aggression but the necessity of eradicating the rest of the Sith. Then the bug-eyed alien giving his consent to allow her and other Jedi to accompany the task Force headed fur Murkhana. A request for a side-errand of almost no importance had led to Kendra's capture. But no clear definition of where the Republic Fleet was gathering. Apparently Kendra was supposed to check in and get the location before continuing on.

Frustrated at the lack of information concerning other Jedi, Adenn roused himself from the memories. At least he had one lead. Murkhana. It was a system believed to be ruled by Sith and they weren't part of the alliance that Nihilius had formed. That was still good information to have.

Adenn stood and instructed the droid to stop recording and then he moved to the communication unit on one side of the room. The multifunctional unit allowed him to raise the lights in the room with one button while another one patched him immediately to the bridge where Captain Slayke was.

"My Lord?" Slayke greeted.

"Captain, I have discovered a rival Sith stronghold. Gather our task force and set our course for the Murkhana System."

"At once, sir.

"And Captain, wait until just before we are ready to jump to inform Lord Nihilius of our destination."

Slayke might have been perplexed at the order but he was too disciplined to show it. All he said was, "Yes sir."

The Sith fleet at Murkhana had been a joke. One damaged Interdictor-class Cruiser and eight squadrons of starfighters laboriously focused their defense around an archaic space station tethered to the planet below. The starfighters had put up a brilliant defense but they were outmatched from the moment the forces of Darth Adenn entered the system. His fleet's starfighters matched the enemy fighters and he had four cruisers plus support ships that tipped the battle considerably in his favor.

After only thirty minutes Captain Slayke was overseeing the surrender of the handful of enemy pilots left alive. The enemy cruiser had been turned into several pieces of wrekage left in rapidly decaying orbits. The space station's guns had been silenced by the nimble starfighters and also surrendered. Already a half dozen shuttles were boarding it. With his physical eyes closed, Darth Adenn could almost see his silver-armored troops flooding the hallways, putting down the few crewmen that resisted and rounding up the rest. He poured his energy into them, giving them greater stamina and increasing their level of awareness. He'd done this before and it saved lives. Lives which were hard to replace these days; though with the surrender of so many he might actually be able to bring his task force up to standard requirements.

It panged him when he felt a flash of pain and then silence from one of his men. He had gotten to know so many of them that he now felt their deaths. Getting to know them had made it easier for him to send them assistance, though. The officers that he had had a great deal of contact shone brightly in his vision of taking the station, spread out and surrounded by the presences of others who he did not know as well. The war droids were all but lost to him in the force. He could feel them but could not feel their intentions or motivations. To feel what they were doing he had to judge the reactions of their living counterparts.

Adenn could also feel the presence of those resisting or surrundering. Though they were harder to read and did not shine as brightly. What he could tell was that none of those resisting were of critical importance. There were no force users on the station. _That_ he could always feel with the Dark Side.

As the boarding operation wound down Adenn extended his awareness to the planet below. Murkhana was moderately populated, with only about six billion inhabitants. It wasn't an industrial center, neither was it an agricultural world. It had both but it produced enough for its own people and given a few more decades could have begun exporting enough of both to bring in credits.

What Murkhana did have was a history of following Dark Siders. While no one on the planet had ever rose to prominence in among the Sith or other Dark Side cults; the world had originally belonged to Xim the Despot's Empire. Millenia later it had willingly joined with the Krath and Exar Kun's Sith Empire. Still loyal to the Sith it had been part of Revan's Empire and now it was loyal to a Sith warlord.

On the whole world Darth Adenn could only sense the presence of a handful of Force-sensitive beings. Adenn began probing them but stopped when the strongest among them struck him as familiar.

Eyes fluttering open he turned to Captain Slayke who stood in one of the crewpits monitoring the assault on the space station with more conventional methods. "Captain, hail the surface. You want to talk with Raki Xesc. She is in charge down there. Inform her I wish to meet her face to face under a temporary ceasefire."

Slayke arched an eyebrow. After years serving among mystics he could still be surprised. "Yes My Lord." He turned away to complete the task. A moment later he was speaking again. "Queen Xesc has agreed to meet with you at her palace as long as you come alone."

"Tell her I will be down shortly."

"My Lord, I really must insist you at least take an honor guard and I'll get a shuttle crew that can fight as well. You can't be exposed like this."

"Captain, I appreciate your concern, but I am more than capable of handling myself. Queen Xesc and I have a history. I will meet with her and I will persuade her to lay down arms and join with us or I will kill her and take what we need."

"Let me at least prepare one of our best shuttles for you. Well armored and fast, it'll keep you safe."

"Thank you, Captain, but no," Adenn declined. "I will take my starfighter. It is faster and better suited for one person. And if things go bad I will need a shuttle with precisely those specifications and a crew to match to come and rescue me."

Slayke looked as if he were about to protest but instead he just nodded. "I understand, sir. I'll have crews standing by and move the fleet into position. If anything goes wrong you give the word and we'll take the world in minutes."

Adenn nodded. "You have the bridge, Captain."

The man who had once been Fulenjo Redjetta sat behind the controls of his Davaab starfighter. Though his time among the Mandalorians had been brief by most standards he had still found time to modify the starfighter given to him by Mandalore. With help he'd done the normal tweaking of the engines to squeeze out ever ounce of speed. He'd enlisted the help of a friend to beef up the weaponry. The modifcation he liked the most though was the new seat he'd install. The plush red seat was much more comfortable during long-space flights and kept his rear from going numb.

Rakia Xesc was a part of Fulenjo Redjetta's, not Darth Adenn's. Adenn was a Sith Lord, answerable to no one, though he was allied with the other Sith Lords. Fulenjo Redjetta had been young, passionate, and full of zest. Officially he had died when Darth Adenn had been born on the bridge of the _Event Horizon_. But Fulenjo Redjetta had begun dying over a year earlier when he'd been forced to leave the Mandalorians behind and the death of so many friends were on his hands.

Fulenjo Redjetta had lived a full life, growing up among the privledged Tapani. He'd joined the Mecrosa Order and then the Sith. He'd fought and killed hundreds, if not thousands of people. But he'd died at the age of 23. Now there was Darth Adenn, who had killed thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. And he had only been alive for less than a year.

About the same amount of time he'd spent with Rakis Xesc.

And the Mandalorians.

Breezing through his pre-flight checklist though he hadn't flown his starfighter in months, Darth Adenn found himself reflecting on Raki and wondered what he would find on the surface of Murkhana. Would it be the intoxicating, playful Raki whom he'd shared a dangerous and exotic relationship with? Or would he find someone like himself. Someone shaped by diificult decisions with life or death consequences?

Within moments he was lifting off the deck of the _Event Horizon_ and zipping through the magnetic containment field towards Murkhana. One demand he kept was that his starfighter be always kept in a state of readiness; should he need to fight or flee in the ship in a battle that was not going well.

Murkhana was covered mostly in oceans, but with more than enough landmass to support its 6 billion residents. Darth Adenn knew little about the planet and was surprsied as he brought his starfighter down on the designated landing platform at the interesting buildings. They all seemed to be built out of some sort of coral-like subtance. They were all beautiful, but the palace eclipsed them all. With natural-looking spires and supported by free-form buttresses, it looked like a combination of a coral reef and classical looking castles. As he came down he did notice that turbolasers tracked his descent from the spires.

Adenn hopped out of the fighter quickly and stood waiting with an adopted air of disdain as a dozen Sith Troopers scuttled from the closest entrance of the palace over to him. "Queen Xesc is waiting in her throne room," one of them said. Fulenjo looked him over, his armor was scuffed and scratched; the polish that had been commonplace among Sith Trooper armor five years ago was gone. These troops were in worse shape than Adenn's own. He also noted that not a single war-droid could be found among them. It was always believed to be the best practice to support non-Force users with droids when facing Jedi or Sith. Their lack of presence in the Force increased the likelihood that any attack would succeed. That meant that Raki either didn't have them, didn't think Adenn was a threat, or was trying to lure him into a false sense of security. Based on the state of the soldiers he guessed it was a combination of the first and last option.

The walk from the landing platform to the throne room was long and involved a turbolift ride. Stepping into the grand chamber Adenn first noticed the tall window at the back looking out over the city and countrside beyond. High ceilings were supported by elegant arches all of which tapered down to focus on the high backed throne. In it sat Raki Xesc.

Xesc was just as gorgeous as Adenn remembered her being. He dark features were complimented nively by a loose golden dress that only dexcended to mid thigh; her long legs magnificently showcased as she reclined with her legs crossed and stretched out before her.

As Adenn approached she slowly uncrossed her legs and stood up. The room was mostly empty. Two apprentices stood on either side of her, dressed in traditional greys appropriate for Sith acolytes. The dozen troopers also followed him in and Adenn spotted four possible places where hidden doors could have been palced and additional troops could be waiting beyond.

"Fulenjo Redjetta," Raki said with a smirk. He noticed that one arm had been replaced just below the shoulder with a sleek, golden prosthetic. When matched with the right dress, as it was now, it looked like it was merely a decorative glove to casual observers. "I never thought I'd see you again. Now you're here serving this Darth Adenn…"

"I _am_ Darth Adenn, now, Raki."

"And _I_ am Queen Xesc of Murkhana," Raki snapped back. "You will address me as such."

Though it did not match her dress, he saw that she still carried her lightsaber at her waist. His eye was drawn over her body and he found himself longing for her embrace once more. Quickly he recognized Raki was trying to influence his emotions in order to gain the upper hand.

"I am here to bring your ofrces back into the fold of the Sith Empire," Adenn said. "Will you submit?"

"What do I get?" Raki asked bluntly.

The defensiveness that had colored her tone from the time he walked in got him curious and he probed her with the Force. He didn't sense anything that he expect. Raki was not the cold, calculating, commanding Sith that he had become. Neither was she the flirty, flighty, fun girl he'd lusted after on Korriban. Instead, she seemed uncertain. All she knew was the Sith so she commanded her as a Sith. But she didn't seem certain of her convictions.

It confused Adenn.

"A place in the new Sith Empire. You can continue to rule here. You get to live." Adenn offered. Even as he spoke he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Whether she was wholy Sith or not, she knew enough of how she should act to be insulted by such an offer."

Appropriately, Raki scoffed. "I have a counter-offer. We duel, if I win I take your fleet. If you win, you take my world."

"I have no wish to kill you Raki," Adenn stated. "You would be a strong ally."

Raki smirked again. "We're past that, aren't we. A world, an economy, and an army would undoubtedly be worth more than one Sith. Just as a fleet to more than repalce than one I just lost would be more valuable to me…" she looked as if she were about to say more but changed her mind at the alst instant. She stepped down from her throne and drew her weapon. The red beam sizzled to life in the humid atmosphere. She adopted a two-handed grip, the most basic of stances taught at Korriban.

Adenn knew Raki had been accomplished in the dueling rooms on Korriban. She'd killed more than her fair share of Republic prisoners. She'd also killed a couple of her fellow students. But as soon as she approached him using the msot basic of stances he knew he would kill her.

Adenn ignited his own weapon in a one handed flourish that carved through the air. Raki pounced, bringing her weapon down heavy in an overhead strike. Adenn side stepped and casually flicked her blade off his own, throwing her momentum off and to the side.

They spun together and locked blades briefly before Adenn twisted his own blade slightly, again stepping to the side. Raki expecting a longer battle of pressure stumbled forward and Adenn nicked her undamaged arm as she passed. Again she spun on him, but now with fear in her eyes. She had obviously not advanced beyond the basic teachings of Korriban. Where as he had studied and mastered a number of fighting styles.

She came at him with a flurry of strikes, all of which he batted away, this time he did not even concede a step as he held out against her. When her planned attack had run its course she was forced to step back. She glanced over her shoulder at one of her apprentices and gave him a nod. Both apprentices drew blades and Adenn heard the troopers behind him level their weapons. At the same time the four spots he ahd identified along with two more revealed their hidden doors and six war droids stepped into the room.

The flurry of blaster bolts came all at once. Calmly Darth Adenn let his lightsaber do the work. It blazed around him in an impentrable weave that caught every bolt and sent it careening away. Slowly he began selecting targets and sending bolts back at them. Two troopers and a droid fell when the apprentices and Raki attacked again. The two apprentices came first from both sides. Both sloppy and poorly trained Adenn jumped over a low sweeping, strike and lopped the man's head off at the same time. Shocked, the other apprentice paused in their attack and Adenn snapped a kick into his jaw, clacking it shut and knocking the man unconcious. Raki's blade locked with his for a moment and two blaster bolts scorched by him, leaving vicous burns in his back and he suddenly realized Raki's new tactic wasn't to take him out directly but to distract his weapon so that he couldn't block incoming blaster shots.

He sprung away from her, back flipping and letting loose in mid flip with the weapon Simus had helped him build. The lanvarok mounted on his left forearm released a spray of razor-sharp disks as he pointed his left arm toward the ten troopers remaining. Reaching out with the Force he nudged the the volley of disks at his living opponents. Twenty tiny disks sliced through the ten men still standing and now the odds were much more favorable. Only one man managed to live through barrage, now down on a knee he kept firing. Adenn decided to spare him.

Raki didn't let her surprise slow her. She knew he still had four weapons trained on him and she could still distract him enough to get him killed. Her blade came at him again; he caught it and drove her back with shove of the Force. She was slammed backwards, skidding across the smooth floor.

Having bought himself a few minutes he flung his lightsaber, guiding it with his mind. It began to circle around to the three droids that were so nicely arranged to succumb to such an attack. But he could not watch it with his eyes, just as it was about to reach the first droid he spun away and towards the door where the last man kept firing. Adenn dodged the bolts and blocked two with nothing but his hands, sucking their energy into himself as he raced towards the man, halfway there the blade struck the second droid. A flying kick to the man's faceplate rendered him unconcious as the blade struck the third droid and Adenn turned and caught it as it arced back towards him.

Just in time it was in his hand as Raki power-leapt at him again, battering into his still-weak grip on the blade, he tripped over the unconcious man and fell to the ground. Raki tried to strike again but Adenn continued to roll backwards and came up on his feet.

She came at him with a wide sweep, which he stepped inside and severed her arm before she could complete and then he swept back to cleave into her. His blade cut only a few centimeters in before it sputtered out. The golden dress obviously had some cortosis woven into it, causing his lightsaber to fizzle out.

But Raki was still kncoked to the ground, in pain. She attempted to call her own blade with her undamaged, robotic arm. Midway to her, Adenn grasped it with his own will and it sailed into his hand instead. Reactivating her weapon, as his would take a moment before he could light it again, he drove the blade downwards, piercing her right abover her dress line, just below her neck.

Raki lay there looking up, trying to work her mouth around words she could not form as he had pierced her throat. Then she died.

Filled with the Dark Side, Adenn did not stop to think if he should or not. He just reached out and sucked in her Force presence.

It was both repulsive and welcoming this time. Having shared such a close relationship to her at one point it was easier and he found himself more open to her memories and emotions. But that's also what made it more repulsive.

Her life before the Sith was of little consequence. She'd been a nobody and the Sith had offered her a chance to achieve more than she ahd ever dreamed of. Her elation at discovereing she was not just like everyone else came to him. Then the determination she had gathered when she discovered how hard it would be. Her years at the academy, first as a student and then an instructor. Intermixed were the affairs she'd shared with the students.

Adenn was somewhat gratified that among her memories he'd stood out as one of the most influential and important of her lovers. Well, at least Fulenjo Redjetta had.

The relationships she'd shared with Uthar, Adrenas, and a few others he couldn't name, but neither could she; came to him. Her final test in the Valley of the Dark Lords and her joy at winning. Then only a short time serving as a teacher before one of her students was revealed to be none other than Darth Revan, returning as a Jedi to destroy the academy. She'd battled him and lost her arm and nearly something more important in the fight.

Her determination to live and protect that something had caused her to reach out to the Light Side of the Force after the Dark Side had failed her. More time passed, working in a Czerka outpost until she'd given birth. _That_ was what she'd tried so hard to protect.

It's what had also given her her doubts about the Sith. But the Sith were in her blood. But she didn't want a life of hardship for her daughter. She wanted more, so she'd given her up.

Intiruged, Adenn followed the thought as Raki relived giving her daughter up to an elderly, grandmother-like figure. The face came to Adenn and he recognized it as the face of his own Grandmother.

Raki's daughter was also his daughter.

He was shocked out of living through any other memories and collapsed to his knees beside her.

**Chapter ****Eleven**

_Think of the Jedi as a forest. The strong excel and grow tall, but the weak don't necessarily die off. They may be eclipsed by stronger and hardier plants but they are still there. Consider the Sith a garden where each plant is chosen to fulfill a specific purpose, albeit evil purposes. The Sith garden is much smaller than the forest, the plants in it are excruciatingly groomed and the weak and undesirable are culled from the lot. The selection and care of the gardener is what ensures that the batch of plants will grow strong. So a Juma berry grown in a garden is stronger and healthier than what can be produced in a forest, however a forest can grow wyykmelons, muja, and groundapples that a gardener might not pick to have in their garden. A Juma berry might be very potent, but it can only be used for making Juma Juice. So it is with the Sith. They breed only warriors for death and destruction. Whereas the Jedi breed protectors, diplomats, teachers, historians, scientists, and more. The Jedi don't expunge the weak; we just have them utilize their relative strengths. This is why the Sith, overall, are weaker._

_Jedi Master Arca Jeth_

_Responding__ to a question from a young Ulic Qel-Droma_

Kneeling next to the body of Raki Xesc, the one-time lover of his former self, Darth Adenn brushed the hair out of her face as she stared lifelessly up at the ceiling. Despite one arm having been replaced with a golden prosthetic and the recent loss of the other; she was still a very beautiful woman: elegant features, smooth skin, toned body. The man that had become Adenn had never loved her. They had both been Sith apprentices during their torrid affair and no Sith ever let anyone get that close to their heart.

As he looked upon her he thought about the doubts she had about the Sith and wondered if he had those same doubts now. Never before had he had a daughter. He had never considered ever becoming a father, but now that he was one, all he wanted to do was find his daughter and teach her about the universe. Somehow in that ideal setting teaching herabbouthe Force, Dark or Light, never entered his mind. Perhaps it was just nthe part of him that was now Kendra Drix, who missed her own child. Or perhaps it was part of Raki, who was unsure she had made the best choice. Perhaps even Grekor Uln, who had resented his wife for not bearing him a child, but had gone on to have children with another was weighing down on him.

He would have to think on this. Meditate. Make certain his thoughts and emotions were truly his own.

All he knew, was that out there, probably even with his family, was his daughter.

Adenn leaned down and kissed Raki lightly on the forehead. "Thank you," he whispered to her. He sat up and rocked back on his haunches, studying her for a minute more before standing up.

Turning to the unconcious form of the young apprentice he had knocked unconcious with a kick to the jaw he used the Force to rouse the man. Young and good-looking Adenn had little doubt Raki had amused herself with him as well as taught him the Sith ways. The man came to and bolted up right. Immediately his eyes rolled back and he sunk back to the floor.

Placing one foot on the man's chest Adenn roused him again. The man tried to jerk upright again but Adenn kept him pinned. "Do you want to live?" Adenn asked.

The man nodded slightly, as he struggled to focus.

"Will you honor, your Queen's agreement?" Adenn asked.

Again a nod.

"Stay here. I will summon medical help."

When Adenn removed his foot, the man tried to sit upright, albiet more slowly, still his eyes rolled back and he passed out again. Adenn left him alone and crossed to where the Sith Trooper, loyal and strong, was starting to fumble around. Either his helmet had offered some protection, or the trooper was made of sterner stuff than the apprentice.

As Adenn approached the man stoped looking for a weapon and lay still. "You have impressed me," Adenn stated, noting the cut to the man's leg and a gash in one shoulder where his lanvarok disks had cut. "Will you honor your Queen's agreement and serve me?"

The man was silent for a moment. "I will."

Adenn squatted and placed ahand on the man's leg to apply pressure to the wound and slow the bleeding. "Contact you central command, tell them to authorize any shuttle's the fleet in orbit wants to land."

"Yes sir." The man clciked on his helmet comlink and for a moment he was silent, though Adenn could feel that he was talking to others. "Do you want us to contact them, and instruct them to land, sir?" the trooper asked after clciking back over.

"No," Adenn stated. "They are already on their way." And they were, Adenn had summoned them with the Force and his men knew when to listen.

It did not take long for the man to muster his courage and ask the obvious question. "Why spare me?"

"You showed loyalty and a willingness to follow orders, even though you had seen you rnetire squad killed around you and the odds against your survival drastically reduced. I hope that you will show that same loyalty to me. I promise you, I show loyalty to my men."

"I have never met a Force-user loyal to their followers," the man said bluntly.

"Talk to my men and see for yourself."

"You spared my life," the man said, "I suppose that counts for something."

Adenn smiled slightly. He was going to say something when he felt the balance of the Force suddenly tip. The Light grew dim as millions of voices cried out and the Dark grew stronger, not as a whole, but as Darth Nihilus consumed.

"Sir," the trooper asked, Adenn's slack-jaw expression betraying his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Adenn stated. "And no."

"We received word from the _Ravager_, they obliterated Katarr. Lord Nihilus discovered the hidden Jedi meeting," Captain Slayke reported as he and Darth Adenn stood on the large landing platform of the palace, troops and technicians scurrying about all around them.

"He has become very powerful," Adenn stated.

"But he's on our side, so that's a good thing, right?" Slayke asked.

"For now," Adenn answered cryptically. Shrugging it off quickly he asked, "What have our technicians found?"

"As you suspected there aren't more than a dozen war droids in the whole place, mostly focused around rooms the Queen would be likely to frequent, such as her dining hall and bedroom. There were only four hundred men serving in the palace, a few other bases scattered have a combined total of of only five hundred more. We captured three hundred in orbit. Not too many. I'm surprised she was able to hold the world with so little."

"She was a Sith," Adenn stated.

"That's true. We're spreading the newbies out among existing troops, but we're not having a very hard time of it, just because there are so few. Not as many as we hoped to capture, but enough to at least put us above minimal operational requirements."

"What about equipment?"

"The space station is salvageable, but I'm not sure it's worth it. We should just strip it and blast what's left out of the sky…"  
"Agreed."

"The turbolaser turrets are old, but serviceable. Though, the technology doesn't match up with our own. There are anti-personel cannons and a small shield generator capable of protecting the palace. All worth salvaging but I'm not sure what we'd do with it. All ships are fully repaired and stocked right now."

"Move all equipment we can to our warehouse, Captain. We'll save it until we need it, or need to sell it."

"Yes sir."

"We have twelve hours, Captain. Get it done."

"I will, sir."

The job was large, but in the end, Slayke hadn't even needed the full twelve hours. Coming up on eleven hours he reported to Darth Adenn that the last shuttle was aboard and they were ready to blast the space station and then leave.

Adenn gave the go ahead and an hour later they were already in hyperspace, leaving Murkhana behind.

**Chapter Twelve**

_ One of the good things about the post-Malak Sith is that they are falling prey to each other. The armada and handful of Jedi we gathered to retake the Murkhana System met with no resistance. We expected a grueling fight from the reigning S__ith despot. Instead, we found an empty world. We still landed troops and stormed the palace. We found only corpses, many showing lightsaber wounds. It saved us thousands of lives. But the world was abandoned. Whoever sacked it didn't hang around. It was a little disconcerting. _

_Quote from Admiral Dodona_

_In her presentation to the Senate about the continuing war with remnants of the Sith_

Over a year had passed since Darth Adenn had learned he had fathered a child as his formed self, Fulenjo Redjetta and he was no closer to an answer. The problem was he didn't know what the question was either.

He had kept himself busy in the last year, so he did not fave to face the own doubts slinking around inside his skull. In the last year he had killed dozens of Jedi. After the third he had stopped consuming them. He toook no pleasure from it and seemed to gain little from it any more, except adding to his doubts. Because with each Jedi he consumed he absorbed a lot of their emotions and values. Instead he had begun to just kill them, if only to deny them to Darth Nihilus.

For months Adenn had wodnered why Nihilus continued to consume. Consuming did nothing but confuse and the power one got from it faded with time. Realization had come suddenly, when he noticed the power of Darth Nihilus had faded considerably after Katarr. Nihilus was a slave to his hunger. Nihilus consumed because it was the only thing that kept him going. Adenn had choice and Nihilus did not. It was the sort of weakness that explained a lot and could potentially be Nihilus undoing.

Adenn was not the only one to think so. He had been toying with the idea of how to exploit Nihilus' weakness for a few months when he received the most unusual call. A woman calling herself Kreia had managed to talk Captain Slayke into putting a call through to Adenn's private chambers. Once the holo image sprang to life before him he immediately recognized "Kreia" as Darth Traya; whom he had assumed dead for the last few years.

"You look well, Fulenjo Redjetta," she remarked.

"It's Darth Adenn now," Adenn replied cooly. No doubt in his mind that the old woman already knew that.

"Finished your training under Darth Nihilus, did you?"

"I've _mastered_ the ways of the Sith, though I suffered no weakling's training," he stated, knowing that Darth Traya held the other Sith lords in contempt.

"So you have come to know the truth?" Traya asked.

"I have come to know that Darth nihilus is a slave to his hunger. Darth Sion to his pain. I haven't figured out what youa re a slave to yet. Your anger? No, to simply. Revenge? Also to simple. Perhaps a slave to your desire for knowledge and control…"

"And you are a slave to your vanity?"

"My chains are broken," Adenn replied, paraphrasing the Sith Code.

"But you do not lead…"

"Neither do you."

Traya's thoughful smile was both pleased and malicous. "Nihilus has become a liability. He needs to be removed."

"Just as they removed you?"

"Something more permanent would be appropriate," Traya stated.

"You have a plan or you wouldn't be contacting me."

"Nihilus needs to consume to stay alive. He is an abberation in the Force. He has consumed nearly all the Jedi and now feeds on the Sith, not as suddenly but those under him are being drained. I'm sure you have felt how weak he has become. He seeks the Exile but can not find her. Nor will feeding on her be enough. He needs more. Katarr made him more pwoerful than any berfore but now he needs more than he has ever had before just to stay alive. There are rumors of a Jedi Academy on Telos. You should tell him as much."  
"Telos is well defended," Adenn pointed out. Even without the Republic fleet, the massive space station over the planet has a number of weapons.

"But there is only one broken Jedi there, not enough to feed him. It will distract him and cause him to draw heavily on the Dark Side and then when he only has one Jedi, he will starve. Those on his ship are weakened to the point of death, he can't draw much more from them."

"So I should stay away from him too?"

"That would be wise."

"And what will you do?"

Traya smiled and the connection fizzled out.

_Telos?_

The question came into Adenn's mind. It was weak over such a great distance and helped confim what Traya had said. Nihilus was weakening. Following Katarr it had sounded like Nihilus was shouting across the stars every time they spoke. Now it was almost a whisper.

Standing on the bridge of the _Event Horrizon_ Darth Adenn nodded. "The Jedi I tortured told me it's a hidden facility where they are trying to train padawans quietly."

Nihilus' mood turned thoughtful, though he gave no outwards signs that would be read through his robes or mask. _A symbolic place of rebirt, to the Jedi_.

"And a place of death for us. Let's remind them of that."

_Bring your fleet to me. Together we will be able to overpower their defenses_.

"I agree. But I think we should try to board the station and destroy it from within. Small shuttles will be able to sneak past their defenses. We don't want to put our captial ships in danger."

_Agreed_. Nihilus paused a moment_. This Jedi gave up the information through torture?_

"No, I consumed him," Adenn stated. Which was true. He had waited until he had captured another Jedi and then tortured and consumed him before attempting this ploy with Nihilus. Nihilus could feel Adenn's growth in power from consuming, just as Adenn could feel when Nihilus did it. This Jedi had been young, taken late in life into the Jedi Order and his memories and emotions were focused on leaving behind his family and how much he missed them but how proud of his work he was and also how proud his parents felt about what he was doing. The man had only added to Adenn's own inner turmoil.

_We can share the Jedi we find at Telos_. Nihilus offered.

Adenn only nodded. He didn't want to consume another person ever, and he was surprised the Nihilus would even make such an offer. But he realized in Nihilus mind, any that consumed must be like him and need to consume more. Adenn had also consumed more Jedi, or at least had the opportunity to consume more Jedi, than Nihilus had in recent months. Nihilus was weak and didn't think he could stop Adenn from taking all the Jedi and by offering to share he would at least get some himself.

"We will arrive in a few days," Adenn stated. "I will have a battle plan drawn up by the time I arrive."

_Good._

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Telos is instrumental to the stability of the Republic. Its success or failure will dictate the economic forecasts of many other worlds._

_GO-TO_

_To the Jedi Exile during their Travels Together_

The battle plan was not perfect. Adenn didn't have the intelligence available to draft a perfect battle plan. He knew estimates of the number of starfighters the sapce station housed. He could guess at the number of armed shuttles the station commander, a Lieutenant Grenn, would be able to press into service. He could only guess at current state of repair of defense turrets. The current number of Republic soldiers, Czerka guards, and mercenaries that would fight back could be as little as a few hundred, or could number in the thousands.

One of the few things he was able to pin-down was the location of the closest Republic fleet. Currently under command of Admiral Carth Onasi, a famous figure in the Republic and one of Telos' displaced citizens. He would undoubtedly rush to the planet's defense. His fleet would be overmatched compared to Nihilus and Adenn's combined fleet. But Nihilus and Adenn would have to neutralize all, or at least most of Telos' defenses before Onasi arrived, or the battle would turn in favor of the Republic.

Once Adenn's fleet had finally rendezvoused with Darth Nihilus he had deliberately dragged out finalizing a battle plan, further weakening Nihiuls until the other Sith Lord could not be stalled any further. Driven to near madness by his hunger Nihilus nearly launched the attack without Adenn's fleet.

The Sith Fleet was fairly impressive, eight Interdictor-class cruisers, led by Nihilus' _Ravager_, a Centurion-class battlecruiser. At full capacity, all the ships could field almost 500 sith interceptors, though he doubted Nihilus' ships were as well provisioned as his own, so the numebr would be closer to 400. Adenn's own ships were in excellent repair and he knew his crew to be competent and fit. But Nihilus' crew's suffered from his drain and he suspected they would not be up to the same standard as his own.

Adenn pitied Nihilus' crews, because he doubted many of them would live through the battle. He would do his best to keep everyone alive. But the damaged _Ravager_ with Nihilus at its head would be lost; there wasn't a doubt in his mind.

And so the battle began.

The Sith fleet came in strong and fast, disgorging fighters and assault shuttles, then standing off just out of range of the space station's long range guns.

Adenn longed to be leading his troops into battle aboard the space station; somehow he knew they would be in for a grueling fight. But he had to trust in the acolytes and apprentices under him. He could send them strength through the Force and issue good orders, but he could do little else.

With the fleet arrayed as it was, squadron leader and pilots knew that in addition to engaging enemy fighters they were supposed to draw them under the guns of the capital ships, giving them an advantage over enemy fighters.

A few armored shuttles and freighters joined in the battle, focusing their efforts on one of Nihilus' cruisers. It came as no surprise that after several minutes of sustained fire the cruiser began to break apart without doing too much damage to its attackers.

Stretching out with his feelings Adenn felt a group of Force users lead a counter-attack on Nihilus' flagship. He didn't know their plan. But he knew Nihilus would not survive. Apparently Nihilus, suspected it too, because moments after the enemy force landed Nihlus contacted Adenn through the Force.

_Send every available __Acolyte, Apprentice, Marauder, and Assassin to my ship. We need to repel boarders. _His tone was desperate, and with it came a compulsion to obey.

Adenn disregarded it. _You command all Marauders and Assassins. My few acolytes and apprentices are fighting and dying on the space station. You're on your own._

_Then come yourself!_ Nihilus demanded with all his will going into forcing Adenn to obey.

_No._

Then Nihilus' touch was gone as the other man worked other options. Adenn focused on the battle and was surprised when the Republic fleet suddenly burst out of hyperspace on their flank.

"Sir," Captain Slayke called, alarmed. "The Republic fleet is already here. They are bringing their guns to bear on one of Lord Nihilus' cruisers and launching fighters."

Adenn ground his teeth together. The situation was decaying more rapidly than he wanted it to. "Close up our formation so we can provide support fire against the Republic ships."

"On it, sir," Slayke stated.

Adenn poured more of his will into those of his men. He wasn't skilled in battle meditation, but he could help them.

The Republic ships apparently did bring a Jedi that could use battle meditation. He immediately felt the person's influence in the Force as they used it to weave Republic forces into a single entity. This was bad.

He felt Nihilus' growing frustration turn to fear and then the man;s presence winked out in the Force. That was at least one victory. Now to withdraw.

But the _Ravager_ exploded. It wasn't under fire. The boarders must have brought bombs on board. Then the cruiser the Republic was targeting vanished, and the Republic fighters began taking apart Sith Interceptors quickly.

What absolutely shocked Adenn was when the Republic capital ships and the local armed freighters turned on one of _his_ cruisers and blew it to pieces in a amtter of moments.

Right then Adenn despaired. The Sith fleet was trapped between the space station and the Republic fleet. Any manuever brought them under more guns of one or the other. Adenn turned to Captain Slayke.

"Captain, if you could be anywhere in the galaxy right now, where would it be?"

"Right here, sir!" the captain said, mustering false courage.

"Honestly Captain."

Slayke looked aside for a moment, a small smile creeping onto his features. "Back home, fishing with my father on the creek behind our house."

Adenn studied him for a moment. Slayke swallowed hard, uncertain of his words.

"Open a channel to Admiral Onasi of the Republic fleet. Tell him we wish to surrender."

"Sir?" Slayke asked aghast. "We can still fight our way out of this!"

"I will not waste any more lives pursuing a conquest that could take decades, Captain. We're done; we just don't know it yet."

Slayke nodded to the communication officer. It took a few moments. But soon the scruffy image of Admiral Onsai stood on the bridge before Adenn.

"I'm Admiral Onasi. You want to surrender?" Onasi asked quickly.

"I am Darth Adenn an I have conditions," Adenn stated. "I want amnesty for all my men and their safe return to their homeworlds gauranteed. I will stand for all the crimes committed.'

Onsai looked aside, getting information from someone else undoubtedly. "Any Force-users will also have to answer to the Jedi Order and may be held prisoner."

"Fair enough. Shall I give the order to stand down?"

"Yes. Your conditions are acceptable."

Adenn looked to Slayke and nodded.

"Stand down!" Slayke ordered. "All ships cease fire. Inform all ship and squadron commanders we have surrednered."

Slayke looked back to Adenn and nodded. Adenn could feel the relief and thanks of all the crew serving on the bridge pour into the air.

**Chapter Fourteen**

_To have fallen so far and learned nothing – that is your failing._

_Darth Traya, as "Kreia," to Darth Sion_

_Before their battle abord the _Harbinger

_A Sith without power can't really be desribed as a Sith_, Darth Adenn thought as he sat on the bunk in the cell he'd been assigned aboard the Republic flagship _Sojourn_. Perhaps that was why Traya dropped her Sith monicker in favor of the name Kreia when she was banished from the Sith. _Perhaps I am no longer Darth Adenn_.

He was roused from his thoughts when the door to his cell clicked and then slid open. He was granted a fairly alrge cell, one normal reserved for four inmates so there was no problem when two Republic soldiers took guard positions inside the door and then three more individuals filed in.

The first was Admiral Onasi, still sporting his scruffy beard and unkempt hair. Following him was a young woman, very beautiful and somehow familiar to Adenn. A long, probably double-sided, lightsaber hilt swung from her hip. She wore a tan variation of Jedi robes. Lastly a mandalorian in the yellow neo-crusader armor of a Field Marshall stepped in.

"Darth Adenn," Onasi spoke, "I'm Admiral Onasi. With me are Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order and Field Marshall Bralor of the Mandalorians."

Adenn smirked. "It is a strange day when the Republic and Mandalorians are working together."

"It's a strange day when a Sith Lord surrenders," Bastila pointed out.

"I wanted to spare the lives of my men," Adenn stated. "They are good people. They didn't deserve to die. Putting the lives of those in Republic uniform at risk just to attempt to escape would have also been unfair." The words came easily to Adenn, though he had never really considered the lvies of his opponents before.

Bastila arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He could feel her probing him with the Force. He would have been repulsed by it before and thrown up mental defenses, but now it didn't really matter and he still had more he wanted to do. He needed them to believe his sicnerity so he could do more for his men.

"We want intel on all the Sith worlds and bases. If you can ensure the surrender that would be better."

Adenn chucked. "You've seen all that's left of the Sith. A fleet of pirates. The warlords we couldn't bring to us we killed. Those we didn't you've mostly already wiped out. Only one place remains, and one, maybe two Sith Lords."

"Where?" Onasi asked.

"Malachor." After he said it he could feel the unease ripple off of the Mandalorian.

"We already know of Malachor," Onasi stated.

Adenn shrugged.

"You are a Sith Lord?' Bastila asked.

"I am… or I was."

"You aren't any more?"

"My power is gone. I don't seek to conquerm, destroy, or kill. I've asked a lot of my men and provided what I could in return. It hasn't been enough and my only ambition now is to see to their safety and provide them with a few credits."

"Really?" Onasi asked skeptically.

"You've always been on the winning side, Admiral," Adenn stated. "You're going to get your pension. Most of my men have put in years with the Sith fleet, and more with the Republic, but the Republic doesn't pay pensions to traitors. Their only hope of a pension was to keep fighting, and that's not a very good reason to put one's life at risk. Like I said, they've sacrificed much for little in return. All are happy they won't go to jail, but what have they fought for all these years?... Nothing."

"You can do this for them?" Bastila asked.

"We have warehouses where we stockpiled resources we didn't need right away. Mostly it war amteriaal, which I am willing to turn over to the Republic or Republic member governments at reduced price, so long as the money goes to my men. Some items could be sold to anyone without fear."

"We would have to oversee the sale," Onsai stated, "And we would get first pick."

"Fair enough. But what is most important, from the rumors I've heard about Telos, is that we interecepted a large number of the final transports from Peragus. We have a lot of fuel. Which I won't turn over for less than market value."

"You are trying to extort us," Bastila said with scorn.

"No. I'm trying to get the best deal for my men. Extorting you would be charging above market rates for the fuel, which I know the Hutts are doing to you right now. They are exorting you. You just don't like dealing with a Sith Lord."

"Former Sith Lord, by your own admission," Bastila counted.

Adenn shrugged.

"Earlier you said, 'providing for you men,' was your only ambition. I find that hard to believe," Bastila said.

Adenn smiled sheepishly. "I admit I have another."

"Let's hear it."

"It's personal."

"If you want us to do all you want. You need to tell us what we want," Onasi put in.

Adenn took a deep breath. Not sure they would even believe him. I found out a year ago I have a daughter. I want to find her and raise her."

"In the ways of the Sith?" Onasi said, nearly accusing him.

"Would you want that for your child?"

"No, but I'm not a Sith," Onasi fired back.

"True," Adenn said with a shrugg. "I have done terrible things. I know that. I would never want that for my daughter."

The questions continued for many hours with Admiral Onasi and Bastila Shan taking the lead. Bralor, the Mandalorian, mostly sat quietly and listened. At the end the other two left and Adenn was left alone with Bralor.

Once they were gone, and the Republic soldiers with them Bralor moved to st on the bunk across from Adenn. "_Su'cuy!" _Bralor said.

"I'm still alive," Adenn replied, recognizing the words of Mando'a. He'd learned much of the language, but he'd never been great at it and what he kenw had faded over time.

"I heard you poisoned Mandalore…" Bralor said, switching back to basic. His voice was deep and slightly gruff coming through his helmet's speakers. "…Then shot up the camp."

"I did."

"Do you have a reason?"

"Do Mandalorians need a reason? I thought there were only your actions," Adenn replied.

"You were a great warrior. You'd already been trained by the Sith?"

Adenn nodded. "It was my assignment to kill Mandalore."

"Not an easy one."

"I wasn't supposed to live through it."

"That explains your first attack on him. But why poison him a year later?"

"I didn't," Adenn stated. "I poisoned him two weeks later. Taungs are tough. It took a year for the poison to do its work. But I didn't kill him."

"We know who killed him. We follow a new Mandalore."

"I held him as he died and he said he forgave me for poisoning him. He said the clans had a new leader. Shysa overheard. She and others tried to kill me. I only tried to escape. I killed them."

Bralor shook his head. "How's that resting on your soul?"

"How would it rest on yours?"

Bralor didn't say anything more. He just stood up, then pasued. "Before I go, why choose the name Darth Adenn?"

"Because it means merciless in Mando'a," Adenn replied. "And I had to be merciless as a Sith."

Bralor shook his head. "Not the way you pronounce it. With a long 'a' it means 'merciless.' With the short 'a,' like you use it means 'forgiveness' or one 'who embodies mercy.' Perhaps that's you more than you know."

With that he walked out. 

_**End**_


End file.
